Lost Hope
by Adari
Summary: The plan was perfect. The execution was even better...but they all forgot to consult the Sorting Hat who had its own views. After all, what can you expect from the hat which contains all four founders?
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

Hogwarts was uneasy for most of the people within her halls were uneasy. The staff clustered together in little groups, breaking apart only to cluster again in different groups. Most of the talk was the usual talk for the beginning of a school year, but every now and then a word would stop half said, a sentence would die unfinished as the staff shared an unvocalised fear or concern. Hogwarts did not like it when her staff was upset, it made them irritable and the magic within her walls would spike with them. Unhappy staff were a literal pain for Hogwarts and she hoped this concern would pass soon. If it didn't pass soon she was hoping that the Sorting Hat would find out during the Sorting and pass the message on, for now she could only watch and worry.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was consuming candy as if he feared it were going out of fashion and would become unavailable. Professor Minerva McGonagall was involved in an transfiguration verse charms duel with Professor Filius Flitwick, and great was her relief that Flitwick's humorous tap-dancing pineapple was vulnerable to her goblet which was taking a brief showing as an exotic bird she had long since forgotten the name of. Professor Sprout was trimming roses with more speed than care and had twice trimmed herself already. In the dungeon where the last person Hogwarts could easily find was almost invariably to be found, Professor Severus Snape was either trying to blow the castle out of existence, or he was trying to prove that even a castle could dodge as well as he could. Hogwarts had twice been forced to hastily move a wall lest it cease to exist and she was starting to get annoyed at his haphazard approach to a medium he was usually careful about. She let him destroy his own door, but she had first removed the portrait from the other side of it and added a stone wall behind it so the hallway didn't suffer. The Hogwarts Express was due in less than an hour and it would be a far from good impression for the new students if they arrived to find that half their castle was absent because of a manic potions professor.

It was an alarm in Dumbledore's Office which reminded him of ensuring that the staff presented a unified front at the Staff Table in the Great Hall. Most of the staff only required ten minutes to arrive, but Dumbledore knew well that it would take at least half an hour to pursuade the Potions Master to cease and desist in whatever he was currently engaged in and show face. The alarm was set accordingly and Dumbledore judiciously decided to call Snape by the fire rather than risking a personal appearance for the argument. There was a decent chance that the irate professor was doing something volatile…if only to prove that there were some things in the world more dangerous than the arrival of Harry James Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer thingie: **None of this is mine...except for the fact that this is my mangulation of someone else's work.

**Chapter 1:**

Harry James Potter had entered the Wizarding World with wide-eyed excitement...and rapidly discovered that they deemed wide-eyed innocence to be his appropriate mindset. After the first day he'd left the Wizarding World with his stock-standard cynical views firmly in place, the world did not care about Harry Potter, they were only interested in how they perceived Harry Potter to be. This was familiar territory for Harry and he fully understood his options and made his choices accordingly.

Harry had enjoyed the trip to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express. It was fun being wide-eyed and innocent, it meant he could forget many things and simply enjoy himself without thinking about anything. Chocolate Frogs had been wonderful. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans had been educational...in the extreme since he now knew the taste of several things he would never have even considered eating normally. Pumpkin Pasties had partially balanced the wild sugar overdose he'd inflicted upon himself and he was remembering for future reference to bring a bottle or two of plain water on the train in future. Harry might have read one of his books for most of the trip, except that his fellow cabin mate was very clearly what the Wizarding World wanted from Harry Potter and equally clearly considered reading to be thoroughly over-rated and a nuisance more than anything else. Harry had thought his plan fool-proof right up until the moment the Sorting Hat settled over his ears.

"What have we here?" The hat sounded decidedly curious as it shifted around, apparently in search of a comfortable seat on this particular head.

"Someone who's wondering if you're intending to take up permanent residence on his head. You didn't shuffle like that on anyone else's head." Harry did not want his plan to go to pieces and this hat was somehow managing to sound like it had every intention of making his life difficult.

"Most aren't half so interesting as you." The hat gave a sniff. "Very boring when you can tell all about them before you've even touched a hair on their heads"

"I like being boring"

"Well that's just your bad luck since you never have been and never will be." The hat gave a sniff and another shuffle.

"I thought I was meant to be sorted, not analysed"

"You read a lot"

"Libraries are safe since bullies don't like them"

"Ahh." There was a moment of silence. "You're loyal...unbelieveably stubborn...intent on learning...courageous...ambitious"

"Come on." Harry almost groaned in frustration, but the hat was all too obviously enjoying itself.

"Impatient." The hat made a tutting noise as it settled again. "That eliminates Hufflepuff, you're far too impatient to be a hardworking Badger even if you do have the loyalty to be there"

"You can also scrap Ravenclaw since I do not read simply for the joy of learning and never will"

"True enough...but that is not all that is involved in Ravenclaw, you'd fit in quite well there"

"That may be the case, but no one wants me there"

"This is not about what they want, little tick." The hat audibly scowled.

"But..."

"No." The hat sounded almost offended. "I do not make my decisions based on anyone's choice. You will go where I think you will fit in and achieve the most"

"But..."

"I'll put you in the house which most suits your personality"

"But..."

"Stop trying to argue, you irritating little bounce"

"I am not a bounce"

"You are if I call you one." The hat sniffed again. "...four-eyes"

"That's not very original"

"If you don't shut up and let me think I'll sort you to the Staff Table"

"Can you"

"No, but there is always a first and you're rapidly putting me in the mood to achieve it, brimless"

"Did you just call me brimless?" Harry was basically gaping at the interior of the hat.

"Little brimless you are the most distracting student I have ever had to sort." The hat started to sound agravated. "There is only one house you will ever fit in"

"I don't want to go to Slytherin"

"Why not, little brimless"

"Because I don't. It's a beastly house and I am totally devoid of ambition"

"You actually consider yourself devoid of ambition"

"Yes. To be ambitious you have to want to be something important and I don't"

"What do you want"

"I want to be Harry"

"Aren't you"

"No, I'm the freak, or boy, Potter, boy-who-lived, delinquent or just about any other beastly name you can think up. I am most certainly not Harry to anyone. I want to be just Harry"

"You don't want to learn magic"

"Of course I want to learn magic"

"You want to do well"

"Of course I want to do well." Harry was now scowling up into the hat.

"Well, Just Harry, I consider that you have the ultimate ambition"

"But..."

"Are you arguing, little brimless"

"No, I'm objecting"

"Trying to fool yourself is even more cunning that trying to fool someone else"

"But..."

"My decision is final and I'm about to be grabbed so you'll go where I say and you'll tell the Headmaster that I want to speak to you once a week until I decide that I've had enough of you"

"But..."

"SLYTHERIN...and don't be prejudiced against any house just because of silly little boys and their opinions." The hat barely said the last bit before it was lifted away from his head.

"Bloody hat." Harry turned to scowl at the offending lump of black material before turning towards the Slytherin Table, he was in a bad enough mood about the entire mess that he actually reached the table before he realised the dead silence which had enveloped the hall and the staring eyes which bored into him from all directions. Even the staff at their Table seemed to be suffering from starting eyes and jaw issues. No one was happy. No one was even vaguely indifferent. Everyone was either shocked or furious...and the latter seemed to mostly be in his own house. Wonderful. Just what he needed. Another school where he was considered a freak and everyone hated his guts. Harry settled at the table as far from everyone as possible, focussed on a distant star in the ceiling and waited patiently for the Sorting to resume. He hoped it would happen soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: The usual stuff about this not being mine. 

**A/N**: Been asked if this is Snape friendly...he's still going to be Snape with a low tolerance for idiots and Potters, but he's also going to have views concerning he school and their opinions of Slytherins...don't mind admitting that much since it's in this post, but other than that I really can't say.

This is not going to be Dumbledore bashing...but he's not some saintly god from on high...infact he's rather conflicted and it's going to show...to the fury of Snape.

re: the comment about my start...never fret, I always stink at them and things should settle down, become longer and more readable as I become more acquainted with my characters.

re: comment about teachers not being so nervous about Potter's arrival...Potter had nothing to do with it for any of them but Snape. The behaviour of my staff was simply a magically edited recognition of what teacher type friends of mine do when faced with the last two days before term starts. The only teachers who aren't on edge are those who are apathetic and I won't have apathetic staff except for ghosts...and you may have noticed that Binns wasn't mentioned.

Posting will have no rhyme and reason, it will wax and wane with my workload and temper...I have in the past been known to commit mass slaughter among characters when reviewers got too pushy and I was in the wrong mood. Not at this board and reviews at present seem to indicate that it won't happen, but I do issue the brief warning.

There's no relationships or anything either...unless it's a relationship that the Sorting Hat is bonded to Hogwarts. There also will be no scenes of gratuitous violence, child abuse, animal abuse or adult abuse. I'm not here to shock anyone...I'm not even demanding people read it...this is just a little something which has been interfering with my studies and old experience has taught me to just post it and have done.

Think that covers all the questions so onward ho and all future comments from me except for the disclaimer will be found at the bottom. - Adari

**Chapter 2:**

Professor Minerva McGonagall had no idea what to do. Sortings invariably occured with their hiccups and fun...but this had to be the first sorting ever which had brought a reaction of outright fear and horror to all. Infact the only person who was not horrified by the house Harry Potter had been sorted into was Harry Potter himself, and he seemed cross with the hat for some obscure reason he clearly had no intention of sharing with anyone. McGonagall looked first at Dumbledore, but that was useless since he seemed to be as horrified as the rest of the hall, though it wasn't half as visible as it was for most people courtesy of the fact that his beard concealed most of it. McGonagall then looked to Professor Severus Snape, the Head of Slytherin, and found enough entertainment in his response that she actually remembered that she should have simply called for the next student, not stood around as if wondering whether the roof was caving in on them.

"Thomas, Dean." McGonagall helped the boy slightly absent-mindedly as she endeavoured to supply a name for the colour Snape had turned on realising that Potter had been sorted into his own house. It seemed to have most in common with the 'colour' formed when refracted light was remixed in a very poor manner. Pale with a touch of green and brown swirling through it. It would be the next day before McGonagall discovered that Thomas, Dean had ended up in in Gryffindor. The next three students followed in a similar blur before the entire hall froze again. A fifth year Slytherin Prefect had approached the solitary Potter. Everyone wanted to hear what was said, but whatever passed between the two was too soft to be overheard.

"Welcome to Slytherin." The boy stood just beyond reach and leant lightly against the bench.

"That meant or just a mantra?" Harry looked away from his study of the ceiling and inspected the boy who had the courage to speak to him. The existance had a nice face with strong bones, good clothes and an intelligent pair of eyes rounded out the boy into what simply was a nice person.

"Curiously enough I actually meant it." The boy's mouth twitched for the briefest of moments. "I'm the fifth year prefect...which means you're my responsibility"

"Oh, even better, the idiots here not only think I'm a reborn Dark Lord...but I'm a duty as well." Harry's attention drifted away again. Between his annoyance at the hat and what he'd learnt on the train, Harry was not even faintly interested in listening to someone else who disapproved of his existance.

"Potter, you may be a Dark Lord...particularly given how most of this place looks at you"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence and why aren't you cowering behind all your fellow fifth years lest I demand you do something dastardly"

"Because you're most certainly not a reborn Dark Lord"

"Why the confidence"

"Because the only Dark Lord you are reborn from was so insane that we couldn't possibly have forgotten him already"

"Mm, so now I'm a pending Dark Lord, a duty and insane." Harry finally looked back at the boy and gave a tiny smile. "Never mind me Mr Prefect, it's just my thing." Harry waved a vague hand. "You've been a good little prefect and I'll write a good report for you when the forms come round"

"Definitely not a reborn anything." The boy suddenly sat down. "Edward Deralc, Potter, and regardless of what anyone says or thinks you are going to be a major asset to our house"

"Threatening me now"

"Yes." Deralc seemed comfortable where he sat. "It seems the most sensible thing to do to a pending Dark Lord." The two boys shared their first genuine smile of amusement.

"Curious." Harry had taken a moment to look around the hall. A small girl currently sat under the hat, but the majority of the attention was still on Harry. "Can you answer why people seem to think I must be a pending Dark Lord"

"Apart from the defeating You-Know-Who thing and the Slytherin thing"

"I had gathered the import of those two aspects." Harry watched as the small girl was swallowed by Ravenclaw.

"Well, I doubt there is any other reason for the view." Deralc gave a shrug and rose. "We have a bad reputation here, Potter, and even the biggest idiot in Gryffindor can see that you have brains and power. In my opinion if you decide to go dark we'll live to regret that we ever complained about You-Know-Who. Believe me when I say, Potter, that I do not want you to even consider going dark"

"What would you want me to do?" Harry pondered the boy next to him. Edward Deralc was something very peculiar and Harry was trying to make up his mind about this boy...the one thing which was definite of anyone in Slytherin was that everyone had an agenda.

"I suggest you prove the whole bleeding lot wrong and make them eat their own biassed predjudice"

"Going to make that speech to all first years"

"No." Deralc showed his teeth for a moment. "It's up to you to catch them if you want to really make it happen"

"Ahh." Harry gave a small nod and returned his attention to a distant corner of the ceiling as Deralc rose to his feet and returned to his seat. Harry knew that everyone in the hall was watching him, but blessedly soon he heard the measured tones of Professor McGonagall calling the name of Zabini, Blaise, the last of the first years to be sorted.

"SLYTHERIN!" The call came almost immediately and Harry turned to politely applaud Blaise's arrival at the green and silver table. The boy hesitated briefly and then settled at the table across from Harry.

"Zabini, Blaise...the last person to be sorted in 1991." The boy held out a hand.

"Potter, Harry...sorted somewhere in the middle and apparently due to be the next Dark Lord." Harry shook the hand briefly. "Sure you want to sit near me"

"I'm in Slytherin, mate." Zabini's grin was wide and sudden. "If there's going to be another Dark Lord I can promise you that I fully intend to be able to claim schoolboy friendship as a reason for not being killed or tortured"

"Nice to know you have your priorities sorted." Harry turned his head to hear the announcements, then sighed and turned back to Zabini. "What do you want out of Hogwarts"

"For it to be over with minimal trouble"

"Then you'd probably better change house." Malfoy demonstrated that he had clearly been listening in. "Professor Snape never allows for slacking"

"Clearly he not only has views on family, but he is also an eavesdropper and knows exactly what someone means when they vaguely refer to minimal trouble." Harry looked at the blond boy quietly and with some distaste. "I suspect that for Zabini minimal trouble has to do with classmates and schoolmates, nothing to do with the actual classwork"

"Why would he have problems with classmates?" Malfoy expression was one of clear confusion.

"I couldn't say." Harry's tone was more than slightly sarcastic. "But I think it has something to do with the fact that the other three houses not only view this house as the fastest way to hell, but me as some pending Dark Lord. If you really think that the rest of this school aren't going to do their level best to extract their pound of flesh in advance...you're naive"

"Oh." Malfoy withdrew into his dinner before shivering with distaste as the Bloody Baron settled next to him.

"Mister charming himself." Zabini picked thoughtfully at his chicken. "What subjects do you think you'll like"

"Dunno." Harry had been looking at the Staff Table before abruptly wincing and rubbing his forehead. "Know who our head of house is"

"Black hair, big nose and sitting next to a scary purple turban"

"Oh." Harry sounded rather depressed as he turned back to his meal.

"Apparently he's the potions professor"

"Oh." Harry was beginning to sound decidedly glum.

"Problem?"

"I don't think he likes me"

"Mate, I'm sorry to bear bad news, but considering the face he made when he realised you'd been sorted to Slytherin...Mate, he hates your guts"

"Wonderful." Harry started systematically shovelling the contents of his plate into his mouth, he really didn't want to talk now. Snape, his head of house, at this point in time reminded him of his uncle...though admittedly probably only half the man's width and weight. The next seven years were going to be hell on earth.

Albus Dumbledore had spent an hour in discussion with the Sorting Hat after the feast ended and the various students had been packed off to bed. There was an emergency staff meeting called for ten o'clock and he was hoping to have some explanation for what had happened for the various panic-stricken staff. The Hat, however, was most unhelpful and at the end of the hour it had finally snapped that if Dumbledore didn't appreciate it's efforts he could have the boy at the Staff Table and the Sorting Hat here and now handed in its resignation. Dumbledore promptly refrained from pushing the matter, the Sorting Hat's resignation was not his idea of something helpful to calm the staff down. It took him another half hour to persuade the Sorting Hat to remain at Hogwarts, fulfilling its tenure and not causing an upset in history.

"Albus?" The arrival of Professors Flitwick and McGonagall drew Dumbledore's attention to the fact that it was time for the emergency staff meeting and he hastily followed them downstairs to the staff room.

"Such a polite boy." Hagrid was shaking his head while being scowled at by Professor Sprout.

"Even Severus can be polite when he puts his mind to it, Hagrid. Please be sensible"

"I got him an Owl." Hagrid seemed unaware of the iminent peril from an infuriated Herbology Professor and Dumbledore smiled faintly as he looked around the room. The staff were assembled, huddled in ones and twos and carefully avoiding one end of the room. The end which was being avoided was occupied by Professor Snape and Professor Vectra, the only Slytherin's on the staff and their expression was one of boredom with perhaps a touch of disgust.

"Is there any way to get the boy resorted, Albus?" Professor Henley, Muggle Studies, seemed quite unhappy.

"I'm afraid not, the Sorting Hat is quite adamant on the point." Dumbledore shook an appologetic head. "It's inadviseable to annoy something like the Sorting Hat, it can be quite temperamental"

"I'd remember to tell the Sorting Hat that next time you chat to it...you'll probably successfully undo the last half-hour of begging you endured to pacify it after being so demanding about it resorting Potter." Snape sneered, completely undisturbed that Dumbledore now knew he had some form of surveillance on the Headmaster's Office.

"I would have thought you wanted the boy resorted." McGonagall was frowning.

"Nothing would delight me more than getting Potter out of my House." Snape gave a snort. "I happen to have some sense though and the Sorting Hat invariably sorts for a reason"

"Can we stop his ambition from getting out of hand?" Sprout's query drew a sneer of world record proportions from Snape.

"Considering the boy defeated a Dark Lord at fifteen months I would say that his ambition was never in hand. A sensible, well adjusted baby would have simple died under such circumstances"

"So the boy has courage, can't that be the precident for a re-sort"

"You're grasping at straws, Minerva." Snape rose to his feet with a snort of disgust. "Considering the Headmaster did not even consider defeat places Potter's actions firmly in the category of ambition. The fact that the boy successfully survived Muggles for ten years says the boy has cunning. Warn your houses, if I catch anyone messing with Potter they'll have detention until the end of time." Snape paused. "The only thing I will tolerate is the award of points, otherwise, come to me and I will deal with the matter in an appropriate manner"

"That's the standard rule for all your students." McGonagall's tone was one of complaint.

"So I'm a Slytherin and I don't trust you to be objective while handling my House. I only mentioned the matter because I had a distinct feeling that unless I specified the matter most of you would assume the boy was not accepted. I may hate Potter, but I can assure you, even a Potter will not be fed to wolves." Snape swirled from the room with another snort of disgust and then sighed as the door closed behind him and he was in the quiet hallway, the staff were going to buzz and tizzy until morning and keeping Potter safe was going to be a problem and a half.

"Professor." The soft tones of Edward Deralc pulled Snape from his dismal considerations for the future.

"Deralc." The query was audible in the word of greeting.

"The prefects wish to speak to you, sir?"

"Right." Snape glanced at his watch and sighed again. The staff had somehow managed to dither away two hours without him realising, it was after midnight. "They've been waiting?"

"Yes, sir. One of us has remained in the common room in case of trouble, but the rest are in your office and I was delegated to waiting for you"

"Thankyou." Snape was walking swiftly. "Please tell me this is not about Potter"

"Not precisely, sir"

"The Staff are already dithering about having him resorted, I will not have the students acting the same"

"No, sir." Deralc had to jog every couple of steps to keep up with Snape's swift pace.

"What do you make of the boy"

"Potter, sir?" Deralc blinked for a thoughtful moment. "He's a true Slytherin, sir, with a very wicked sense of humour...verbal only, I don't think he'll be even a vague concern for magical pranks"

"He's demonstrated his humour already"

"Most first years would have fled crying at the reception his sorting got, he made a joke over it"

"Find out what the Hat said to make him cross"

"No, sir"

"Then keep your ears open." Snape swung through the heavy oaken door into his office and didn't break stride until he dropped into his comfortable chair. Five prefects stood to one side waiting for him to speak. "Deralc says there's a problem?"

"We wished first and foremost to verify that the rules of Slytherin apply to Mr Potter." It was the seventh year boy who spoke. "We assumed they did, but we considered it judicious to enquire"

"They do apply to Mr Potter." Snape rubbed his temples and sighed. "I want to know if anyone does anything at all to Potter, the staff are on the verge of panic since the idiots seem to think that Dark Lords are born...instead of being very carefully and painfully trained for at least half their lives. This House is in lockdown until I give the word that it is okay...if anyone complains you can offer to let them out, but you'd better remind them of the rules of Slytherin and what tends to happen to those that are not protected by them." The prefects all grimaced rather speakingly, the rules of Slytherin were tough, but there was a very good reason for them.

"We'll have a meeting before breakfast tomorrow."

"Is there any other problem?"

"Mr Malfoy is apparently a natural legilimens, sir...though he may have actually been eavesdropping. You'd better investigate it soon or there will be uproar"

"Anything else?"

"One metamorphmagous...but he's already arranged for Potter to take the rap for pranking him if it get's out of control"

"What changes most?"

"Hair colour is apparently still unstable."

"I'll introduce Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy to colour charms and potions respectively then." Snape frowned. "Mr Zabini I trust."

"Yes, sir." Deralc's expression was briefly amused at the thought of any of the others with such a talent.

"Any other...talents?"

"Miss Parkinson has an untrained and dormant seer instinct which she has agreed to have a watch kept on"

"Nothing on Mr Potter?"

"I couldn't say, sir." Deralc looked at Flint in hesitation.

"Potter has no readings at all." Flint spoke bluntly. "The scans infact report the boy to be a squib...though he was showing no problems with the clothing charms...and we've borrowed some of Mr Malfoy's clothes for him to wear until his owl order returns. Mr Malfoy wrote the order to ensure a prompt delivery but I'm afraid you'll have a serious problem with those two in the future"

"I heard from McGonagall that Potter was less than diplomatic about a formal overture of friendship." Snape gave a small shake of his head. "Try to keep them out of trouble and I leave it to your discretion whether you notify Potter that his first detention, when earned, will be with me and take the form of a thorough and intrusive magical scan to find just what he's hiding...though it is probably just magical bindings with a cloaking signature to ensure they're not too noticeable." Snape dismissed the prefects, found himself a headache potion and packed himself off to bed. He hated first weeks of school. He hated students. He hated hysterical teachers. Most of all he hated impossible Potters who dared get sorted into Slytherin and preparing such a mine field of a school year to contend with. Potters and Slytherins mixed almost as badly as Potters and Snapes...who didn't mix at all, even when heated and violently agitated before snap freezing.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is called a Chemistry Assignment, note that well and treat it accordingly.

Disclaimer: Usual thing about the world being someone else's creation, I just mess around in it when the secret life of Astatine is being a sight too secret.

Chapter 3:

Harry Potter found himself awake at an hour he considered criminal. It was five thirty in the morning, Goyle was snoring far from quietly and sunlight was beginning to peak through the windows...though Harry was still trying to figure out windows in a dungeon, without using the vague 'magic' explanation. Harry pondered his options for several minutes before he carefully extracted himself from bed, grabbed his clothes and hustled silently into the bathrooms. A couple of minutes communion with cold water and a sponge lead to a thoroughly awake Harry grabbing his potions book and scurrying down to the common room in search of better light and a place where he wouldn't disturb his dorm mates by reading.

"Potter." The word caused Harry to practically jump out of his skin before he dodged into the nearest corner and sought the direction of threat. He found the speaker in a second, a solid boy sitting in an armchair with a strategic view of staircases and the doorway.

"Sorry about that." Harry removed himself from the corner and found a seat. "Mustn't have been as awake as I thought"

"Most people don't shelter in corners before they even try to identify the threat"

"Got a cousin who thinks it fun to hit me...corners mean he can only hurt two sides of me"

"Just a cousin thing or a problem?" The boy's brows had lifted.

"You're not going to believe me if I say it's just a cousin thing." Harry had studied the boy for a thoughtful moment before responding.

"As I said, most people don't shelter in corners just because they're startled." The boy held out a hand. "Marcus Flint, Potter. I'm the sixth year prefect and Quidditch Captain"

"Harry Potter, Flint. I'm the first year student who's apparently a pending Dark Lord." Harry shook the hand firmly, his eyes watchful for the response.

"Nice line you have there, Potter, you'll soon know the idiots from the not-so-big-idiots"

"Rather what I thought." Harry flipped open his Potions book and eyed the tiny print with a rather dismal eye.

"You like potions"

"I might if the Professor in question hadn't made it perfectly clear that he doesn't like me." Harry flipped to the page where he'd left off reading back at Privet Drive. "It's...tangible"

"You use big words for a first year"

"I had an Aunt who didn't believe in childrens books." Harry carefully neglected to mention that it was only him where that particular belief held sway. "No childrens books means little Harry Potter has a shortage of small words and has to make do with the big ones"

"You don't like intangibles?"

"I don't know, but I can study things like potions and herbology at...home, unlike the other subjects"

"History?"

"If the teacher is as boring as the book I am not at all optimistic"

"The teacher is even more boring than the book...and I would suggest you look at the book I'm about to hand you and read up on Soothing Solutions." Flint handed a rather limp and much marked volume across. "Professor Snape likes to start with those"

"Why tell me?"

"You'll need all the help you can get with potions. Professor Snape is usually fair to anyone who tries...but I think courtesy of his expression last night that you'll need to be little short of a genius in the field to be called anything better than a dunderhead and a complete waste of time and space"

"Why are you down here?" Harry had found the method for three separate soothing solutions and was beginning to read with knit brows.

"My shift, the last one before breakfast." Flint gave his head a shake. "For the first month there will always be someone in the commonroom at any hour of day or night. After the first month we presume you to have the sense to know when to seek help and seek it accordingly in the appropriate dorm room. The dorms with a prefect have a button by the door, press the button and the prefect inside will be awake and with you in seconds...probably grumpy, but not unreasonable"

"I take it that we speak to prefects and then prefects speak to Professor Snape"

"Ensures his temper is not tried by pointless irritations like homesickness and insomnia...the professor is just a hair less terrifying than a dementor when disturbed at night"

"Have you ever had to disturb him?"

"Fifth year, one of the firsties came down with dragon pox and woke me because of his weird blue rash"

"Dragon pox"

"Nasty virus which spreads like wildfire and has the symptoms of high fever and a blue rash. It's usually fatal if untreated, annoying and painful if treated. You have to be magical to be susceptible"

"I'll make a note not to catch it." Harry began flipping through his potions book after the specifics of various ingredients, he had a feeling that tansy had more properties when considered in the magical world...and he was depressingly right.

Flint watched the black-haired boy bent over his work in thoughtful silence. Deralc was reliable in character assessments and Flint agreed fully with this one. Potter had a wicked sense of humour, but it was purely verbal, the boy would never be in trouble for magical pranks. The scanner Flint had had on the boy since the moment he'd entered the room had finally come to a conclusion about Potter. The boy was apparently not a squib in the early morning, even if he was a squib in its opinion at night. Flint folded his hand over the scanner and rose to his feet.

"Potter, if anyone else comes down tell them I'll be back in a moment and there is an intent ward in this room so don't even think of fighting"

"I will...Flint"

"Thanks." Flint ducked out through the portrait and hurried down to knock on the door of Professor Snape's Office. Flint knew that Snape had a very cunning charm on that door which guaranteed that he heard a knock as long as he was somewhere on the school grounds...he'd also hear any attempt to break in or hex his door. It might seem paranoid, but Flint considered it dead handy.

"This had better be good, Flint." Snape opened the door with a scowl, but he was undoubtedly awake for the smell of brewing hung around him like a cloud.

"There's something odd about Potter sir"

"He's a Potter, need anything else be said?" Snape lifted a wearied eyebrow.

"He's awake at five thirty in the morning and clearly resigned to it, not excited"

"Early bird"

"He's thin enough that I specifically asked the scanner to check for malnutrition or illness and it came up empty"

"What is your point, Flint?" Snape's expression didn't change, but did manage to convey a sense of massive restraint and wearied patience.

"I don't know, sir, but I think it adviseable to dose the first years for the next couple of weeks. I don't know why Potter registers on the scanner as fine...though probably for the same reason that he registered as a squib last night"

"Give me the scanner." Snape held out a hand and scowled at the scanner before jabbing it with his wand and causing it to emit a puff of pale blue smoke. "Mm"

"Blue smoke?" Flint was genuinely curious.

"Just means that it is definitely working properly." Snape scowled and then sighed before handing the scanner back. "It's official, I hate Potters even more than I hate paranoid hysteria"

"For what it's worth professor I think he's actually a good kid"

"He's a Slytherin and he knows his survival is on the line, of course he'll seem like a good kid." Snape snorted in disgust before waving Flint off. "You'd best get back to the common room before the early birds start showing"

"Yes sir." Flint retreated as the door crashed shut behind him, Snape had been relievingly passive over such an interruption.

XXXXXXXX

Draco Malfoy prodded his way through the trunk of one Harry Potter and his only emotion was one of confusion. The week had been lousy and Potter's trunk was promising to make the weekend even worse. There was absolutely no candy in the trunk, though Potter had apparently bought half the trolley while on the train. There were three chocolate frog cards, and an empty box of Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans, that was as close as the boy came to sweets. In one corner of the trunk books were carefully strapped to the side to prevent movement and damage. Inspection revealed that the books were the assigned first year books, nothing more. One potions cauldron, stuffed with the most ghastly rags which Malfoy was eventually successful in recognising as the clothes Potter had worn on the train. The idea that the boy was hanging onto those atrocious rags was nauseating. Otherwise there was a small bag of owl treats, a spare robe, the ghastly school hat which never would stand up straight and a pair of dragonhide gloves. If Malfoy hadn't known better he would have assumed he'd opened the wrong trunk.

"Malfoy." The soft word seemed to explode in the room and Malfoy swung around with a curst as he snatched at his wand.

"Deralc." Malfoy decide to respond as he'd been spoken to, non-accusatory, a simple note of recognition.

"Potter's trunk?"

"Who isn't curious?" Malfoy looked back at the prefect evenly.

"Only those who think they know...which is probably far worse." Edward Deralc came into the first year boys' dormitory and carefully knelt down to look into the trunk. "He still has those rags?"

"Would seem so...must be a reason for it." Malfoy gave a shrug before carefully returning the items he'd moved to see more clearly the contents underneath.

"I have been requested by Professor Snape to find each and every one of you firsties who is not named Potter to thank you for your maturity and responsible behaviour"

"Would he destroy the classroom if a teacher tried to assign me a detention"

"Probably." Deralc gave a shrug. "The Staff know not to assign detention to Slytherins...they just seem a trifle unbalanced with regards to Mr Potter. If we act up a complaint is sent to Professor Snape who will take appropriate action...I advise you not to try it out"

"I wasn't intending to." Malfoy carefully closed the trunk and relatched it. "Why have the detentions remained"

"Potter hasn't said anything about them yet and Professor Snape never acts without first being specifically requested for aid"

"Can students express views on what they think appropriate for a fellow student?"

"You have views?"

"I think he would benefit a lot if the Professor would discuss any essay topic in advance of him having studied it"

"Why?"

"He didn't grow up in a Wizarding Family and he's suffering for it"

"I shall ensure the Professor hears your views...anonymous one"

"Please." Malfoy had moved back to his bed and his expression darkened. "I mean...If the Professor wishes to know who made the suggestion I do not mind, but Potter and I are not on the best of terms and he might fail to take advantage of the situation if he knew I had anything to do with it"

"Very well." Deralc nodded and moved to the doorway.

"Mr Deralc?"

"Mr Malfoy"

"Do you think anyone would object if I were to write to my father in quest of further information about Potter's...elusive behaviour concerning his family"

"Potter is almost guaranteed to object but I doubt anybody will mind...staff who might object for him in any other arrangement have made it clear that they intend to train him up as Filch's replacement." Deralc's expression was almost a disgusted sneer, he went as close as a student who is a role model of appropriate behaviour is able to get.

"You said I wouldn't get in trouble for cursing Weasley last night"

"That was only valid if you told me the truth"

"Professor Snape has requested I write an essay on why my action was injudicious and requested that I list eight alternative methods I might have employed to stop Weasley from cursing Potter while he scrubbed the floor without his wand"

"Tell him thank you when you hand it in, he's ensuring you have options next time and may even find a way to stop the Weasley without getting caught yourself"

"The Professor likes us to think, doesn't he"

"He particularly likes you to think if you're going to do something completely daft like endangering yourself for another...there is always a way to the same objective which will not include endangering your life"

"Do you think it will count as one option to 'accidently' trip and flatten the idiot"

"It would probably work, but I'm confident you can find other options which are decidedly more subtle." Deralc gave a smile as Malfoy's eyes narrowed in thought.

"Thanks...and I'll get that letter off before Potter gets back from where ever he was dragged by the Headmaster." Malfoy paused. "The only reason I think it is not a detention is because the Headmaster seemed excessively unhappy and he was quite satisfied when he saw Potter working on the main stairs day before yesterday.

XXXXXXX

"Well, well, well and what do we have here?" The Sorting Hat would have grinned widely had it the appropriate features.

"You told me I had to see you once a week." Harry scowled at the interior of the hat and considered pulling it off and considering this the required weekly meeting.

"Ahh, that was right, you were the little Brimless whom I only sorted into any house at all on the understanding that you'd pay a weekly visit." The hat gave a soft chuckle. "How kind of you to show face a full hour before I had cause to begin demanding your presence"

"Would you have demanded I be brought?"

"No one argues with the Sorting Hat, little Brimless." The Hat gave a sniff and then an audible frown. "Except for you, that is. Contrary little...Brimless"

"Must you call me that"

"Yes"

"The Headmaster said that if I was required to communicate with you I would do it at his convenience, not mine." Harry was more than a little disgruntled about the whole mess. "I'm missing dinner for this"

"Just ask your Head of House to help supply the shortfall, considering the homework he has assigned he will undoubtedly ensure that you have sufficient food to do it"

"How do you know what homework we have?"

"It's called...Magic, Mr Potter"

"Really?"

"No." The hat made a rather rude noise. "Professor McGonagall was up here less than an hour ago complaining about the two feet on Laboratory Safety"

"You just listen in on the Headmaster?"

"Why not?" The Hat sounded far more inquisitive than offended. "There's nothing else to do and it's sometimes quite interesting"

"So anyone can hear?"

"I didn't expect you to sit here completely vulnerable to whoever decided that a dead Potter is a very good thing"

"Yes but..." Harry stopped, alarmed for a moment at a thought. "Is this private?"

"No more than our discussion in the Great Hall...which is to say totally"

"Ruddy..." Harry mumbled for a moment under his breath.

"That's hardly nice." The Hat gave a sniff. "I supply you with a valuable asset and opportunity and you swear about it"

"Assets and opportunities are permitted to occur without attitude"

"Not with you, little Brimless"

"Is there any particular reason for this interrogation?"

"I want to know what happened during the week"

"Why?"

"Because it has been a thousand years since I did anything but get dragged out once a year to sort greasy-haired brats. I'm curious and you're odd enough that what I learn will be something other than the mundane"

"Sorry, my week has been obnoxious. All of the staff, except for Professor Snape, seem intent to ensure that my janitorial skills are nice and fresh when I return to Privet Drive for the summer. Professor Snape is going to kill me long before Christmas if he gets his way. I have nine detentions pending and have served six cleaning already...and that's not counting Professor Snape who has requested my presence early saturday morning with a decidedly nasty look in his eye"

"Fellow students?"

"To date, outside of Slytherin, they include 19 jelly legs, three leg-lockers, two boils, one funny tooth one and an uncountable variety of failed spells...I got the names of the definites from Zabini who was kind enough to teach me the counter-curses...with an exception for the funny tooth one which required a trip to the infirmary to get my teeth resized." Harry frowned. "It never occured to me that I'd get a detention for getting medical help"

"Detention?"

"With Filch, as always, apparently I interrupted Madame Pomfrey and was demanding"

"Were you?"

"I don't think so." Harry frowned. "She seemed delighted to see me right up until the moment she realised who I was...which was when she managed to get my teeth to stop obscuring my face. She then got mad and gave me a detention"

"Any thoughts on how to avoid detention?"

"Well." Harry hesitated. "Apart from the ensuring they can't accuse me of any sort of poor manners all I can think of is finding some way of studying so I stop getting the answers wrong when questioned"

"Inside Slytherin?"

"Two second years who sobbed and a seventh year who threatened to hang me from the ceiling of the Great Hall if I so much as looked at his girl again...very confusing since I never looked at her to begin with. Zabini's decent enough, lends a hand when I need one and doesn't prank me in my ignorance." Harry paused. "I've been stuck with a Gryffindor for Potions and I've a nasty suspicion that he's in on the plots to kill me before I become 'dangerous"

"Oh"

"How else do you detonate a totally inert potion?"

"That is something I can't answer...only one explosion"

"I managed to prevent the second explosion...though I definitely lost a couple years of life...which I can ill afford to lose at present"

"Your fellow Slytherin first years as a whole?"

"They won't let me be killed, but they're pretty unhappy about the amount of points I cost them by simply entering a classroom." Harry gave a shrug. "Do you think I'll get in trouble for thinking that grown-ups are annoying?"

"That all"

"Well..." Harry grimaced. "Pretty much everyone I meet is annoying...but as you said, I'm an oddity, which means odd things will happen." Harry paused again. "Do you think it unreasonable for me to wonder if Professor Snape might not be able to intercept a few of my detentions and turn them into something other than scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush...and an audience"

"I thought Professor Snape refused to let any staff assign you detentions"

"Did he?" Harry suddenly straightened. "That must be why he kept turning up and trashing the classroom...it did seem rather odd behaviour. Do you think he might help me?"

"All I can suggest is that you ask him, little Brimless." The Hat spoke rather quietly and sounded almost tired.

"Brim"

"What was that?"

"If I'm Brimless, you must be Brim"

"You are Little Brimless." The Hat gave a sniff, but the air within the hat had palpably changed.

"Sorry Big Brim"

"You should be." The Hat sniffed again and then made another audible frown. "If you want to tell me something before this time next week, write it in a letter while sitting in the corner of a room. Address the letter to Big Brim and then place it in a fire"

"You'll get it?"

"No." The Hat gave a snort. "No hands and no eyes means that I cannot receive anything...however I will know the contents of that note before you next appear"

"Really?"

"Really." The Hat gave a twitch. "Now, get busy, persuade your Head of House to feed you and try negotiating something about your remaining...ten detentions"

"Yes, sir." Harry jumped to his feet. "Thankyou very much, sir...and I won't forget Big Brim." Harry carefully removed the Hat and restored it to the shelf where it usually sat around accumulating dust.

"Oh, and Harry"

"Yes, sir?" Harry turned back at the door to look at the Hat.

"No person, or even group of people, is illustrative of the world. It takes all of us to make this world, and it wouldn't be the same place if any went missing"

"I'll remember, sir." Harry nodded, slightly confused but very determined that if nothing else he would not disappoint the Hat who was placing so much faith in him. The School might think Harry Potter was a pending Dark Lord, but Harry knew far better, the only thing he was pending was being Harry...Just Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4:

Draco Malfoy was not a fan of the Hogwarts Owlery, least of all when he was alone, but the letter had to be sent and that meant a trip to the owlery since his owl was already off delivering a letter and Potter's Owl would only deliver if asked by Potter. Malfoy rather wished his owl was even a quarter that picky about who it associated with since the letter it was currently delivering was not his. It was a depressingly mundane owl that Malfoy was forced to entrust his letter too. He wasn't even certain why he was even curious about his problematic year-mate...the boy acquired detention for simply breathing even with Snape devastating any and every classroom or hallway where a detention was handed out or points were detracted. The fact remained though, he was intensely curious about Potter, if for no other reason than because the boy was supremely undisturbed by the horrendous rumours and biassed behaviour of the entire staff body. Even Snape pounded Potter. Malfoy couldn't think of any fate worse than being partnered with Longbottom in Potions, it had already lead to one trip to the hospital.

"AHH!" The shriek rang through the corridors and Draco knew no hesitation as he sprinted towards the noise. The voice had been that of Blaise Zabini, and all else apart it was far safer to be with Zabini and fighting whoever caused him to scream like that than it was to loiter alone in the corridors and risk the fury of both whoever the students were and Snape...and Snape actually was the main reason for Draco's action. Draco skidded around the final corner and fired off three quick spells at the huddled Gryffindors before ploughing through them by sheer inertia and flinging up a shield around himself and Blaise.

"Oufzz." Draco sucked on his teeth as a barrage of spells crashed into his shield. "Zabini, can you walk?"

"No." Zabini's voice was a bare thread.

"Damn!" Draco flinched again as another barrage of spells crashed into his shields.

"Someone..." Zabini's words were unnecessary for Draco had already noted the green and silver trim which was being hustled around.

"It's Potter." Draco watched the body literally flung at him, terminating and recasting his shield almost perfectly, so Potter slammed into the floor next to Zabini as opposed to the shield. The whole maneuvre would have been perfect but for a small green spell which now bounced around the interior of the shield. Draco terminated and recast his shield a second time and he grinned as he saw the little green spell impact with some hapless Gryffindor who'd clearly never considered that a spell of that type wouldn't die until it hit a target.

"Thanks for the catch, Malfoy." Potter's voice told Draco that the boy was conscious if nothing else.

"Injuries?"

"None bar a couple of bruises." Potter gently grazed his fingers against the interior of the shield. "Want some help with that?"

"How?" Draco shot the black-haired boy a sharp look.

"Zabini isn't using his magic right now, while I'm doing something to his leg I'll just tie you temporarily together...should stop their barrages from hurting quite so much"

"Go for it...but they will kill us if they get through"

"I realise." Potter's reply was firm and somehow Draco was not surprised by the blow which took him between the shoulder blades about a second later. The shield turned several shades darker and Draco couldn't help but sigh in relief as the spell barrages caused more of a tickle to his skin than the pain of before.

"How's Zabini?" Draco cast a quick look over his shoulder at Potter who was bent over Zabini, whose expression was easier already.

"Something with his leg, I'm just taking away the pain so he can help support that shield voluntarily"

"Can they see what's happening from outside?" Draco had focussed briefly on the faces outside the shield.

"They can see us, but they shouldn't be able to see anything more." Potter's tone was slightly distracted.

"Right." Draco frowned in perplexity for the Gryffindors had suddenly broken ranks and vanished down a nearby corridor. "We must have staff coming"

"Drop the shield, I think Zabini can stand now...with a bit of luck we may get out of here before they actually arrive"

"It's down." Draco grabbed one of Zabini's arms as Potter started to get the boy to his feet. "Go left"

"Right..." Potter swore, an oddity which caused Draco to look over his shoulder and groan. Professor McGonagall was coming swiftly towards them with a grim expression on her face.

"The Headmaster will hear about this." McGonagall's mouth was pinched shut. "Brawling in the corridors is unacceptable at any time and between fellow housemembers..." It trailed into disgusted silence and there was a moment before Malfoy spoke up.

"Please ma'am, if we might be permitted to get Zabini to the Hospital Wing"

"Certainly." McGonagall suddenly gave an unsettling smile. "We'll be talking about your conduct later...though Mr Zabini seems to have suffered sufficiently already for whatever caused this unseemly display"

"Bloody witch." Draco's mumble occured a discreet three corridors later.

"Zabini, you with us?" Potter spoke to the boy who hung between them.

"Yeah." The tone was soft, but clear. "Whatever you did helped a tonne, thanks Potter"

"It was nothing...bit of accidental magic I'm pretty good with, pulls the pain out of bruises and suchlike." Potter glanced across at Draco. "Malfoy"

"What?"

"We're going to be killed if we don't start sticking together"

"Really?" Draco's tone was sarcastic but he was unhappily reminded of the Sorting Feast. "You do realise none of this would have happened if you'd had the decency to be sorted to some other house"

"Believe me, Malfoy, Slytherin was the last house I wanted for this very reason." Potter grimaced as he stumbled and slammed his shoulder into the wall.

"You alright?"

"Fine." Potter ground it out just before they reached the hospital wing door. Draco lead the way in and negotiated briefly with Madame Pomfrey, experience had taught them that she would ignore Harry completely. Ten minutes later they departed with the comforting news that Zabini was simply suffering from a very badly bruised leg courtesy of a miscast pulverulentis. Draco watched at Potter kicked the wall several times.

"Gratuitous violence inflicted on the castle will probably get you another detention you realise"

"Considering that Pomfrey's probably already written up that I messed up while casting that pulveroo-what-not on a fellow student I doubt it will matter since I'll probably be expelled tonight"

"Pulveroo-what-not would not even inflict a bruise, let alone one on the bone." Malfoy scowled briefly but decided to keep his thoughts to himself. "Pulverulentis...it's a dark bone-crusher curse and would normally reduce any bone it touched to fine dust"

"Nasty." Potter gave a sudden yawn and then shook his head. "We'd better get back to the common room before they find some other reason to get me in trouble." He sighed tiredly. "Professor Snape is going to kill me this time...please feed me to the black horses that live behind Hagrid's, I think they'd appreciate a bit more food"

"I'm significantly more in favour of that supply of Chocolate Frogs my mother sent me...after a judicious trip to notify Professor Snape that he has to deal with Professor McGonagall again." Malfoy had picked up his pace to a very smart walk.

"At least Professor Snape's memory thingy guarantees that he'll know the truth if nothing else." Harry was tired and would much prefer to simply go to bed and sleep, but Professor Snape wouldn't tolerate hearing from another source of the trouble.

XXXXXX

"Enter." The dull word came immediately after Malfoy's polite knock on the door and the boys shuffled into the small room with its towering bookcases and massive desk. Professor Snape was engrossed with a quill of red ink and what was probably someone's summer essay.

"We've had a bit of a problem in the halls." Draco spoke carefully.

"Professors involved?"

"Professor McGonagall"

"No detention?"

"No." Draco hesitated. "She sounded pretty nasty though...I think she must be learning to leave Potter alone"

"Wonderful." Snape rubbed his forehead wearily, completely oblivious of the wide streaks of ink the action left behind. "Potter, avoid me if at all possible until I tell you otherwise...the prefects will tell you when a problem requires my attention. I will undoubtedly be hounded to take appropriate action for whatever dastardly deed you supposedly committed"

"Zabini's in the Hospital Wing with a badly bruised leg. It was a group of upper year Gryffindors and I've no idea why he was out alone, but they caused him to scream blue murder. Madame Pomfrey said it was a miss-cast Pulverulentis. I heard him on my way back from the Owlery and so ran to help"

"The usual essay then, Mr Malfoy. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be satisfied to hear that you are writing an essay on the errors of your actions"

"Eight alternatives again?"

"Twelve, since you made such a satisfactory job on the last set of alternatives"

"Yes, sir." Malfoy glanced sideways at Potter, clearly hesitating.

"Potter, why were you exposed?"

"I was coming back from the Headmaster's Office, sir"

"You were coming back alone?" Snape's expression was empty.

"Yes, sir." Potter managed to smother another jaw-smashing yawn, but the stress caused his eyes to water violently.

"Potter, stay. Malfoy, I'll escort you back to the common room after pulling your memories"

"Yes, sir." Malfoy followed Snape to the space which had probably been a cupboard of some sort initially. Potter had drifted after them, accurately presuming that his memories would be extracted as well. The task took barely a moment before Harry was left alone in the ascetic office with its floor to ceiling books and paper covered desk...there was nothing that even might be personal to be seen.

Snape returned to his office to find Potter inspecting the books on his middle shelves. The boy was careful, never actually touching, but clearly ascertaining every possible skerrick from the spines.

"Sir, why do you have an entire volume on Wolfsbane when a compendium seems sufficient for any other plant"

"Wolfsbane is not only a common name for aconite, it is also the name given to a potion which was developed to enable were-wolves to remain sane, if nothing else, during the full of the moon"

"Were-wolves, sir"

"I suggest you check up on the subject in the library." Snape considered the boy for a moment before he finally returned to his seat behind the desk.

"Should you wish I will arrange for you to redo all potions classes on the weekends should you deem your combined grade with Longbottom to be unsatisfactory"

"I would prefer to get something higher than a zero." Potter hesitated for a moment before settling into a nearby chair. "Why did you partner me with him?"

"If I partnered you with anyone else I would never hear the end of how you were causing the other student to fail...even the staff must concede that Longbottom is abysmal at potions"

"Yes, sir." Harry shifted in his seat for a moment. "Sir?"

"Yes"

"I'm having a bit of trouble with my homework"

"Why?" The word was almost arctic and Harry hesitated for a solid minute before deciding to speak.

"It's the detentions from the other staff, sir." Harry hesitated again. "Is there a charm or something that I can use so I can listen to my books while scrubbing the floors?"

"An audio charm would work, but I would not advise it for Filch disapproves of magic"

"Might you have any other suggestions? I really don't want to fail outright"

"I have two suggestions." Snape paused and very carefully swallowed the smirk which threatened to emerge. "The first is to make an official complaint to me about the detentions"

"No sir." The refusal was instantaneous and actually did draw a smirk from Snape, it was very nice to know that the boy understood the danger of favours.

"My only other suggestion is for you to simply not show up to them"

"Slytherin won't approve of that action." Harry was officially depressed with his options.

"Slytherin will only frown if you cost them points." Snape studied the boy pensively. "Missing a detention will simply cause you to be awarded more detentions, then your Head of House will be approached before leading to an eventual trip to the Headmaster's Office. Slytherin couldn't care less about such a progression...except for the fact that I become unpleasant when bothered by such mundane matters"

"Yes, sir." Harry slumped down in his seat and pondered his bootlaces.

"They won't expel you, Potter"

"Sir?"

"No matter what you do, you will not be expelled from Hogwarts. You carry far too much political and financial clout for the school to risk what would happen if you were expelled." Snape scowled. "That information is private though and if you even consider abusing it you will regret you were ever born"

"No sir, I have quite a bad enough reputation without actually doing something to warrant it." Harry shuffled for a moment and then looked up. "You wanted to see me tomorrow morning"

"That concerned the two detentions which you served with me." Snape frowned. "It will be after curfew if I deal with the issue now, but be warned it is information that you would be very unwise to share with anyone...even under duress"

"I'll keep that in mind, sir"

"See that you do." Snape rose and opened the door. "I'll escort you back to your common room, but have Flint escort you to my office tomorrow morning at nine o'clock"

"Yes, sir." Harry shuffled hastily after Snape and ducked into the common room with relief. Harry did not like that idea there was something about him that he should withhold even when under duress to confess it.

XXXXXX

"I believe you have a student of mine here." Snape swept into the infirmary in more than a minor degree of annoyance, trust a Gryffindor to mess-up while casting Pulverulentis. Now it seemed that he was going to have to pull Zabini's memories just to find out how the curse was miss-cast. Miss-cast curses tended to have side-effects which no one would even begin to look for.

"End bed." Madame Pomfrey barely even glanced up as Snape swept through the ward to stand at the foot of Zabini's bed.

"Sir?" Zabini was both conscious and lucid, Snape was greatly relieved.

"I want your memories and permission to scan your leg." Snape frowned. "I don't want you to end up in St Mungo's with complications if at all possible"

"Yes, sir." Zabini awkwardly shifted so that Snape could pull his memories of the event into a small vial. Snape grabbed a sight of them as they came and his frown darkened into an angry scowl.

"Thank you, Mr Zabini." Snape spun his wand and pondered the information it supplied. "Madame Pomfrey"

"Professor?"

"My wand reads micro-fractures as well as bruising, give the boy some skele-grow before it spreads." Snape scowled again at the information his wand was feeding him about Zabini's leg. The Pulverulentis had not been miss-cast and whatever Potter had unconsciously done to remove the pain had only been a temporary fix, it was starting to come undone.

"I promise you there were no micro-fractures before." Madame Pomfrey seemed indignant.

"It wouldn't surprise me for a moment if what you state is true." Snape sniffed at the woman. "However, there are micro-fractures there now and they will become genuine fractures and breaks if he is not treated soon." Snape scowled at Zabini's leg, the whole situation was supporting what he had concluded from Potter's detentions and he was very, very unhappy with the situation.

"Oh, come to see his handiwork have you?" Professor McGonagall's prim tones snapped Snape from his peeved ponderings and he turned a scowl on her.

"You are here because?"

"Bryce was caught by a shedding hex coming back from dinner and I'm here to escort him back to his dormitory now he's stopped losing skin"

"Little green hex that one isn't it?"

"Yes." McGonagall's expression was suspicious. "I would have thought you didn't need to be told that"

"A question of clarification...it has been twelve years since I was last subjected to that hex." Snape's tone was frosty. "And no, in answer to your previous question, I came to inspect the handiwork of Mr Watson...who casts a very nice Pulverulentis, I suggest you warn him not to do it again"

"Mr Potter cast the spell." Suspicion turned to instant fury.

"No." Snape held up the vial of memories. "I've already pulled the recollections of all three parties and they all agree that the only spell cast by my Slytherins in that incident which resulted in Mr Zabini's leg injury was a shield spell...cast by Mr Malfoy and unconsciously supported by Mr Zabini"

"What was Potter doing?"

"Keeping Blaise conscious enough to support the shield"

"Mr Potter wasn't helping with the shield?" There was a rather nasty element behind the query.

"Incompatible magic." Snape gave a soft snort. "Even you should know that shields are picky. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to arrange with the Headmaster for the restoration of of Slytherin's House Points and a rebalance of Potter's detentions." Snape gave a nod, moved to the door and then paused to look back. "I would suggest that you pull the memories of Watson and Bryce as well as six others, I don't think you'll like what you find"

"You worry about your own house, Severus"

"I already do." Snape exposed his teeth slightly. "It is the rest of this school which has lost its minds like demented sheep." Snape was gone leaving a fuming McGongall in his wake.

"Poppy"

"Professor McGonagall"

"What was the spell cast on Mr Zabini"

"It was a miss-cast pulverulentis, but the bruise balm and the skele-grow should be sufficient to see him back in classes tomorrow"

"Thankyou, Poppy." McGonagall frowned for a long moment before she turned and swept from the room. The implication that Snape was taking memories was concerning, firstly because it was actually illegal, and secondly because Snape had implied that it had given him information contrary to what she knew. This meant that either Snape's Snakes were managing to lead a Master Legilimens up the garden path...or someone outside of Slytherin was behaving in a decidedly Sytherin manner. Personally, McGonagall was not happy at the not so subtle implication that her Gryffindors were involved in what had clearly been an in-house brawl.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5:

"Mr Potter." The soft words stopped the dungeon dead as everyone swivelled around to watch what was going to happen. The words were spoken almost every lesson, and the results varied widely...but at least today it did not seem to be the precursor of an explosion.

"Professor?"

"Do you consider that a potion?" Snape flicked his wand at the cauldron and something seemed to move rather thickly inside.

"No sir." Potter had considered his cauldron briefly before responding in a rather glum tone.

"Don't you think a potion might be the objective in a potions classroom?" The tone was deceptively kind and the class all but held its breath waiting to see whether this time Potter's mess would results in detention or a temporary kick out of class.

"Yes, sir." Potter's passivity seemed to irk the potions master.

"Then what is it?" Snape stirred the contents again and this time there was a thick glug from somewhere deep inside the cauldron.

"Inert goop." Potter had studied the contents of his cauldron again for a good minute before he finally responded.

"Why do you have inert goop?" Snape's tone was still polite, but the class at large was beginning to wonder whether perhaps a temporary evacuation of the classroom might not be appropriate.

"I don't know." Potter had hesitated for a very, very long moment before he responded, and his words caused Snape's left eyebrow to rise slowly.

"Indeed...then perhaps a little detention?" There was a moment of breathless silence. "Seven o'clock, here...tonight." The final word didn't even rank as a whisper and yet it seemed to shake the room.

"Yes, sir." Potter turned back to his inert goop as Snape swirled away to galvanise the rest of the class back into potions. There was nothing to be done with the mess, Harry knew that very well indeed because he'd been trying to do something about it ever since he'd created it.

Snape had been snarling at Potter's inert goop every time he passed the boy's cauldron. Potter had been snarling at his inert goop and keeping Longbottom away from it for he did not want it to stop being inert goop...at least while it was inert goop it could not spread its unknown properties all over the classroom. Granger had been trying to tell Longbottom how to fix it until Potter made splendid use of the extended vocabulary he had acquired from Hogwarts and shut her down with a viciously premeditated attack of extreme nastiness. Weasley's surprising, and explosive, defense of the know-it-all had resulted in detention for him with Filch. Potter had then got another detention for talking, while trying to pursuade Longbottom that ignoring the goop was the best course of action. Snape had scowled dourly while stirring the inert goop again, only Snape knew that every time he stirred that cauldron he was trying to get rid of the contents of that cauldron...and absolutely nothing was working.

XXXXXX

Malfoy was scowling as he shoved his books back into his bag. A ratty quill...he was never going to lend Potter a quill again in his life. A bottle of pink ink...never trust a Parkinson when she said she could replace your ink after it got spilt, least of all when spilt by a Potter. Malfoy crammed his parchment into his bag and couldn't care less since his parchment was messed already from a spell that had splashed across the Slytherin desks during History of Magic. History of Magic essays were utterly rank, Zabini spent most of his time composing rude limericks while writing his essays and today Malfoy simply could not get one of the 'fresher' limericks out of his head...though admittedly the limericks most certainly meant that you never forgot the dates for any rebellion.

"Mr Malfoy." It was Binns' ghostly form which hovered at Malfoy's elbow and put him in a truly foul mood.

"Professor?" Malfoy crammed the last of his things into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"There was a slight altercation outside the classroom."

"Are you assigning me detention, Sir, or is your question for some other reason?"

"Detention...Mr Filch...tonight." Binns drifted away through the blackboard as Malfoy stormed from the room. The only reason Malfoy was not planning to murder Potter for this whole mess, was because Potter had already been hospitalised because of said altercation...and Malfoy considered the memory of a Weasley twin with teeth down to his collar more than worth a detention with Filch...but that wasn't going to stop him from laying a complaint with his Head of House over Binns' gross violation of the school-wide and unspoken law that only the Slytherin Head of House could award a detention to a Slytherin. Now all Malfoy had to do was find Potter and get him to lunch in one piece before negotiating with Nott how to get him out to Herbology and back without trouble, Zabini usually dealt with these matters, but with his leg still compromised Potter was refusing to be near the boy lest he get hit by something else.

XXXXXX

"Potter." Snape looked up in response to the polite knock and identified the boy. Snape already had a headache from the Malfoy boy and this evening's Staff Meeting had promise of being little better than hell on Earth for now he not only had the matter of Zabini's cursing to deal with, but there was also Binns' violation of the unspoken law and now Snape had a sinking feeling that Potter was about to make his life significantly worse, as only a Potter could. "Problem?"

"The Headmaster just rescheduled my interview with the Sorting Hat to seven o'clock and I tried to explain about my detention but..." Potter ground to a stop when faced by Snape's slowly rising eyebrow.

"Office hours are now officially over." Snape swept across his office and slammed the door before pulling Potter through the connecting door into one of his four private laboratories. Not as bad as he'd feared and a perfect excuse to ensure that no one could make his day worse.

"My detention, sir?"

"Find out the properties of your inert goop." Snape thumped a thick tome down on the table next to the cauldron he'd moved into his lab during the lunch hour. "Original composition the potion should have had." A second book landed on the table.

"Sir?"

"Potter?"

"Am I permitted to utilise you as a source as well, sir?"

"Three questions." Snape swirled away and bent over a heavily shielded cauldron which he'd been puzzling over for two weeks, ever since he'd managed to extract the substance from one of the very dead unicorns Hagrid was getting worried about. In Snape's opinion a dead Unicorn was no worry at all, Hagrid should be expending his efforts panicking over the Unicorns which were still alive. To date all Snape had managed to ascertain was that whatever was killing the Unicorns was also drinking their blood for no vampire, self-respecting or otherwise, would even dream of sampling Unicorn blood and Snape had already found clear traces of the vampiric method to prevent clotting in subjects.

"Thank you, sir." Potter settled onto the available stool and found the potion they'd been making, wrote out the ingredients before clearly marking the last ingredient which had been correctly added. Harry then lost half an hour scraping around his memory to identify the ingredients which had been added between the correct ingredient and the handful of ingredients he'd added to neutralise the potion which had turned explosive. Harry listed his handful of ingredients at the very bottom of the page, before precisely noting the time difference between when they started the potion and when he'd flung in that final handful of ingredients. Harry made one final note of the time when the last correct ingredient should have been added, this left only the confusing task of trying to order the remaining ingredients and assign approximate times to their entering the cauldron. This was going to be a very long detention indeed.

XXXXXX

"Malfoy?" Deralc had been on the verge of hexing his assignment topic when he became aware of the Malfoy Heir standing hesitantly next to his table in the Library.

"I've been trying to find Professor Snape..." Malfoy hesitated.

"You've no hope." Deralc shook his head and glanced at a calendar. "Today of all days nothing short of a life-threatening emergency will find him...and half the time even that doesn't work?"

"Why?"

"We've no idea...but Flint, the only one of us who has tried to find him on this sort of day, spent a week in hospital after the room blew-up...we just don't bother looking for him now." "Oh." Malfoy scuffled his feet for a moment before moving away.

"Spit." Deralc lifted an eyebrow and was thankful that it brought the boy back to the edge of his table.

"It's Potter."

"Oh?"

"I think there's something in his squibishness."

"Why?"

"Even Gryffindors can't be that lousy."

"Comment?" Deralc blinked as he completely failed to follow Malfoy's logic progression.

"Les jumeaux Weasly." Draco huffed irritably and decided not to play Deralc's linguistic games, even if his father would approve of them. "Two spells, one hits me and gives me a rash, the other hits Potter and does absolutely nothing"

"Frustrating."

"Only about one in eight spells cast at Potter ever takes and that's weird."

"What can I say?" Deralc gave a faint shrug. "He's the Boy-Who-Lived...but I will pass your observations on to Professor Snape."

"Thankyou." Malfoy hesitated and then frowned. "Deralc?"

"Mr Malfoy?"

"Can you..." Malfoy stopped again.

"Mr Malfoy?"

"Nothing...it's almost tea time." Malfoy swung around and walked quickly out of the Library, leaving Deralc to frown and completely forget about the Herbology assignment he hadn't really wanted to do. Deralc had a feeling that he was going to be in consultation with Professor Snape for a while tonight. Potter and Malfoy are a unique problem apart and a decent headache when combined. Deralc almost pitied the school if these two ever started consciously co-operating. For now, however, he settled for pitying himself because he did not wish to spend a week in the Hospital Wing and Professor Snape usually had good reason when he locked his office door, his lab door and refused to emerge for dinner. Deralc made a little prayer to any deity, magical or muggle, who might be listening to protect him a little before he packed his bag and headed off for the Dungeon...perhaps Flint could be persuaded to help attract Professor Snape's attention.

XXXXXX

"If it isn't Little Brimless come to see me again." The Hat shuffled around in search of a comfortable perch on Harry's head. "Do spill all the news for the week."

"Not much to tell." Harry slumped down under the Hat, forcing it to shuffle around again. "Nothing even vaguely happening"

"Last week you claimed that you were overloaded with detentions. What now?"

"I have a million and one essays in place of detentions." Harry sounded utterly dejected but the Hat wasn't fooled for a moment.

"No need to gloat about it." The Hat shuffled again. "Are the Gryffindors as incompetent spell-casters as ever?"

"Well..." Harry hesitated. "Either they're incompetent or I've learnt how to cast Malfoy's shield without even realising it." There was another moment of silence. "I've had a few burns from near misses and one broken arm because a miss-cast stunner knocked me down the stairs into the dungeon." Harry stiffened and suddenly fell silent, before he jerked violently upright. "Big Brim, I'm really sorry to do this to you...but I've got to go." Harry jerked the hat from his head, carefully stored it on its shelf before sprinting from the room, desperately hoping he was in that tiny window of peace after the student body had gone to tea, but before Professor Snape had reluctantly left his quarters.

"Relax, Harry." The hat shuffled around on its shelf for a moment before smirking in quiet satisfaction. "Professor Snape is delayed tonight."

"Hat?" Phineus Nigellus was the only portrait away and he was frowning darkly at the hat. "What have you done to Professor Snape?"

"I am innocent, portrait." The Hat gave a sniff. "Hogwarts has simply moved Professor Snape's door."

"Moved it where?" Phineus Nigellus was suspicious of the Sorting Hat when it was this evasive.

"About two rooms down if I understand correctly." The Hat wasn't particularly interested in where the door had gone. "I doubt he will have finished blasting through his wall before Mr Potter gets there."

"Your objective is to kill Mr Potter?" Phineus Nigellus sounded faintly disapproving. "I always knew you were a Gryffindor at heart."

"A Gryffindor would never understand the relationship that Professor Snape has with his house." The Hat wasn't really interested. "Professor Snape wants what Mr Potter has to tell about as much as he wants a were-wolf in the school...however he also understands the importance of what is at stake. Life is about to become very interesting and I suggest you try and find a portrait in the Great Hall in the next...five minutes should do."

XXXXXX

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was quite accustomed to the unexpected occuring within his school, he prided himself on being able to take anything and everything with composure and dignity. However, he discovered that a thunderous explosion which not only literally rocked the castle, but also caused the contents of his goblet to spread down the front of his robes, to be more than he could take and it was a less than dignified yelp he gave as he leapt to his feet and hastily remembered to seal the doors before any students escaped. The Great Hall was the only room in that part of the castle, if the ceiling were to fall more would survive than if they were out in other parts of the castle where ten floors could fall on top of them.

"SILENCE!!" It rang out across the hall and the response was immediate, all students fell silent and turned to face the staff table. "All students return to your seats." There was a moment before a scuffle began the return of students to their seat. Dumbledore glanced around the Staff Table before nodding to Flitwick, McGonagall and Sprout, he then hesitated for a moment before moving to speak to Sinistra.

"I have no idea." Sinistra pre-empted his enquiry of the whereabouts of the Potions Master. "I will however do a roll-call for Slytherin." She swept from her seat and left Dumbledore to quietly resume his seat and wait for results. At present the only known absence was Severus Snape, though Dumbledore was completely confident that Harry Potter would also be absent when the final count came in.

A second explosion rumbled through the school as two of the four House Ghosts departed through the walls. Dumbledore was relieved to know that all of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were present, but he was worried about the absent Hufflepuff.

"Stebbins is in the Infirmary." Pompfrey spoke up suddenly with an appologetic grimace before quickly checking the small charm she carried. "He's intelligently gone to my office and lifted the wards...the school can fall down and he'll be fine."

"Thankyou." Dumbledore relayed Pompfrey's words to Sprout before turning his attention to Sinistra who was talking to the Bloody Baron with a dark frown on her face. A third explosion rippled through the Castle, shaking it's foundations and spilling anything which had survived the previous two explosions.

"Apparently this is all Hogwarts' fault." Sinistra finally turned away from the Slytherin House ghost.

"Hogwarts is shaking her own foundations?" McGonagall didn't even try to conceal her disbelief.

"No, Hogwarts apparently removed all doors and windows from the Potions Laboratory...Professor Snape is simply using the available means to get out before the available air runs out." Sinistra was unworried by the fourth explosion which came as she spoke. "There is only one wall left"

"He can't just blow up Hogwarts!" McGonagall was outraged and very indignant.

"He can if Hogwarts endangers either himself or a student...which she did both."

"Why...?" McGonagall ground to a stop before shaking her head. "Potter, I presume...what did he do to annoy Hogwarts so much?"

"Absolutely nothing." Dumbledore was blinking in confusion as he understood Hogwarts' response to McGonagall's wearied enquiry.

"He can't have done nothing...even his father never managed to annoy Hogwarts this badly...and he turned half the castle pink."

"Hogwarts says that he did absolutely nothing...apparently she thought it would be fun to drop him on Professor Snape's head before removing the doors and windows." Dumbledore was now feeling very bewildered and the final explosion rocked the castle's foundations. Withoug telling anyone, Dumbledore unsealed the doors for he really didn't want Severus to blast his way into the Great Hall, if nothing else it would scare most of the students completely stupid...which they weren't whatever Severus was prone to claiming at regular intervals.

"Headmaster!" Snape had come into the Great Hall with an exceptionally dark frown in place and a completely expressionless Potter in tow. Both of them had an indescribable air of dust and weariness. Dumbledore considered laughing until he actually met Snape's eye, at which point all amusement vanished.

"Severus."

"Control the bloody castle."

"You know that is not possible."

"Then how about you try notifying Hogwarts that if she even so much as considers pulling a stunt like that again I will resume those experiments I terminated eight years ago."

"Ahh." Dumbledore took half a step backwards and McGonagall turned a lovely shade of greenish-white before gulping rather precipitately, even the castle seemed to quiver. "I think she has heard the message herself and she requests that you do not." Dumbledore glanced around the hall and pulled gently on his nose, almost all the staff were looking wary even if they did not share the knowledge of exactly what those experiments were eight years ago. The student body seemed mixed between alarm at the irate Potions Master and amusement that Hogwarts would prank him. Dumbledore had a nasty feeling that Hogwarts actions were not a prank but something else which only a thousand year-old sentient castle with a very warped sense of humour could enjoy.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 5:

Harry Potter had flung a desperate hand at his potions partner and successfully deflected the bile the boy had been about to dump into the cauldron onto the floor. Unfortunately the bile splashed on impact and quickly ate its way through three chair-legs and one book bag. The outcry among the Gryffindors was instantaneous and they certainly didn't care that the only use he made of his wand was to hastily fling a shield over the spilt bile so no one could come into contact with it as they lunged from their seats. Harry dove to his left, away from the cauldrons and any classmates. The fight barely began before it ended, but as ever, Harry only knew of diving before he blinked himself awake in a seat in Snape's office with a concerned Zabini shuffling by the door and a seriously unhappy Edward Deralc pouring an energy potion down his throat.

"How many to the wing this time?" Harry gagged, choked and then swallowed the ghastly brew in a single mouthful, before he gagged and choked again over the taste. He then felt the vague fogginess depart from his mind and body and he was left only with a couple of very minor bruises and a graze or two.

"Weasley and Finnegan were trying to punch you...Longbottom must have been grazed by whoever casts it." Zabini answered bluntly.

"Longbottom badly off?"

"Bruise on his forearm which is a bit resistant to bruise balm." Zabini suddenly grinned. "Weasley won't be doing any writing for a while though...even magic couldn't fix his fingers."

"How long will he be out for?"

"Two days at least."

"We'd better watch his brothers."

"Sorry to interrupt your sadistic pleasure in disabling a Gryff." Deralc sank back onto his heels. "But this is the eighth time this week I've been summoned to feed Potter energy potion and I'm more than a little puzzled about things."

"Someone found out how to protect Potter from poundings." Zabini came across to sit next to Harry. "We still haven't figured out for certain who's casting it, but someone casts a dark stasis charm on Potter as soon as the Gryffs start moving. The field's about half a foot and anyone who tries to punch through the boundary has a time anomaly and really bad bruises are the result."

"Dark stasis charm?" Deralc looked at Potter in horror. "You're still sane?"

"Whoever casts it is really good." Harry gave a shrug and a faint grin. "We think it's either Professor Snape or Malfoy...possibly both of them share the honours. I'm instantaneously within the stasis so I don't even bruise, I just wake up here with you feeding me energy potions."

"Dear..." Deralc shook his head slowly before sending the two boys off to their next class, he didn't want to even consider what was happening in this school.

"Deralc?" Potter had stopped in the doorway with Zabini just beyond him.

"Potter?"

"Is it...is it completely because of the staff that Professor Snape keeps cancelling a detention he awarded himself"

"Detention, Potter?" Deralc looked puzzled.

"A month ago he told me to turn up on saturday morning...he said it was important, but first thing that saturday Flint told me it was cancelled and I...well I'm still not supposed to ask him why."

"I'll speak to the Professor and see what I can find out for you." Deralc gave a decided nod before moving away to rinse the vial of energy potion and figure out where he was meant to be. Feeding Potter Energy Potions cost him half an hour every time, and that usually meant he would arrive at a class late...though he had a pass from Snape ensuring he received no punishment for his absences. He'd given up on his memory and fished out his schedule when the voice of his Head of House disturbed him.

"Deralc." Snape was standing in the doorway with a surprised expression on his face.

"Potter required another Energy Potion." Deralc scowled at his schedule confused by his sudden loss of literate comprehension.

"Is it too inconvenient for you to come and dose him?"

"No." Deralc suddenly gave up in disgust, having come to the conclusion that nothing was going to make any sense until he asked his Head of House about the situation. "I'm just concerned that it is so frequent. Zabini said it's apparently a dark stasis charm being cast on Potter which signals me to come down and dose the boy...I'm worried that Potter apparently suffers no ill effects from the Dark Stasis charm."

"No ill effects at all?"

"Apart from the low energy...it's apparently just like waking up for him. One minutes he falling or something, then he's here with me pouring potions down his throat."

"Intriguing." Snape came into the room and dropped into his usual seat. "Tell Malfoy and Potter they're to see me tonight."

"Potter's worried about some detention he was told not to serve saturday a month ago."

"Thanks for the warning." Snape paused for a moment and then shrugged. "Still tell them to come...unless Potter gets spelled in transfiguration before tea"

"Sir?"

"Deralc."

"Potter and Zabini seem to be of the opinion that either you or Mr Malfoy cast the charm."

"Ahh." Snape suddenly grinned, it was a very odd expression really because it affected his face not at all, his eyes simply narrowed and he exuded an air of extreme entertainment. "The guilty party is Mr Malfoy, who first had to prove to me his ability to do the charm accurately and perfect under the circumstances. If the teachers will not protect my students, I will ensure they can protect themselves when they are not in my class."

"In your class?"

"Oh, I cast the charm if the problem arises in Potions...my line of sight is invariably clearer."

"Has Malfoy any idea what that charm can do?"

"Rest assured Deralc, I doubt there are many people in the world with a less thorough knowledge of the effects of that charm than Mr Malfoy...he deemed the side-effects of less issue than the hospital visits which would undoubtedly be required otherwise...then we discovered Mr Potter's curious lack of response to the charm."

"I'm sorry for questioning, sir." Deralc finally remembered where he was meant to be and grabbed his bag.

"Your concern and discretion mark you as worthy of the trust placed in you." Snape rose in turn. "Will your pass be sufficient?"

"Yes, sir." Deralc was gone as he finished his words and the door thumped solidly behind him under its own weight.

Snape slowly sank back into his seat as he considered yet another piece of information which had come to him. For most people the Dark Stasis Charm was a brain wrenching torment and it had been carefully considered before the first charm was ever cast. For Potter the charm was like a stupefy...without the headache. The evidence continued to mount, all of it reinforcing the original conclusion...and all of it very bad news for the school in general and Potter in particular.

XXXXXX

Snape was slumped in his seat rather haphazardly reading an article on an attempted adaption of wolfsbane when he heard the soft tap. "Enter." He filed the article away under his seat as he straightened up and looked to see who had come to annoy him at this hour of the evening.

"Deralc said we were to see you, sir." Draco Malfoy stepped quietly into the room, almost shoving Potter in as he did so.

"Detention." Snape pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Magic and fighting do not combine well in a potions classroom."

"Yes, sir." The two boys cast less than half a glance at each other, they had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

"The first essay is on precisely what could have happened if the potions had become involved in that fight."

"Yes, sir."

"Potter, why did you cause Longbottom to spread bile far and wide?"

"If it had been added to the cauldron it would have exploded."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Potter frowned at the floor for a moment before looking up to shrug. "None of the ingredients are inherantly explosive in nature. The bile would spit if a bit of water had been added, but that's the worst. I'm certain it would have exploded though."

"It would have." Snape studied the boy for a long minute. "Your second essay is to find out how the inexplosive ingredients of a clarity potion would become explosive if the bile was added at the point that Longbottom tried to add it...I also want to know how you might know that an error of such a nature has occured."

"Yes, sir." Potter took half a step backwards.

"Mr Malfoy...your second essay will be on methods of how you might have prevented Goyle's Sprite Solution from exploding last week."

"It was a firework."

"I have no arguement with your observation, however, among the ingredients available there was one which would have prevented the firework from exploding fully. An unexploded potion can often be resurrected." Snape looked at the boys for a silent moment before waving a dismissal and fishing his article back out from under his seat. He wasn't really reading the article, having finished it weeks ago, it was simply something to do while he tried to remember why he wasn't in his laboratory. In his younger days he would have simply dismissed the concern and gone to his laboratory, experience had taught him though that this niggling sensation usually meant that someone had made an appointment to see him. It was far safer to simply not brew for an afternoon, than to contend with the concern, and derision, of his fellow staffmembers after they'd escorted his visitor away with promises to make him contact them about a meeting. Snape only remembered his visitors if they were fellow Potions Masters of appropriate calibre, who would also be undisturbed by being forgotten in favour of a potion and knew how to enter his laboratory. At the present moment his nasty niggle was almost positive that it was Dumbledore with whom he had an appointment, and he really did hate the old man when he came over all patriarchal and caring and trying to get Snape to make friends and meet people...which he invariably did with even more vigour than usual if Snape failed on an appointment. So Snape continued to read, a portion of his mind preoccupied with what he was forgetting, but the majority of his mind occupied with the results of the previous day's anomalous explosion in his private laboratory and why it had happened at all.

XXXXXX

"Umm." Malfoy slumped against the wall as the door closed and looked at Potter in annoyance.

"I'm thinking we'd be unwise to be seen without a book for the next week or so." Potter found a bit of wall to lean against himself.

"Why did he give us so much?"

"I think Clarity Potion must have some interesting atributes when absorbed through the skin." Potter was blinking almost sleepily.

"Duck!" Malfoy flung himself across the hallway, slamming Potter onto the ground as his hastily raised shield clanked echoingly under the pressure of a muddy looking spell.

"You're really good at those." Potter was almost admiring the shield as he dusted himself off and crouched on his heels.

"No, I read about them once and fortunately have yet to have one fail...possibly due to my own ignorance about what they're capable of." Malfoy was turning a pearly white as spells continued to hammer into the shield.

"Think it's a case of drop it and run?"

"Nothing else to do." Malfoy was looking around at the arrangement of attackers. "They aren't beyond us...and you do realise that I seriously object to how fit you are forcing me to become."

"Welcome to my world...I was afraid I wouldn't be fit enough to elude Dudley during the summer when I first came here. I was soon relieved of that fear." Potter settled on his feet. "Ready to run?"

"When you are." The shield fell and the two boys tore away under a hail of swearing, for the Gryffindors could not run fast enough to catch them, or cast accurately enough to hit the small boys who would not run in a straight line.

XXXXXX

"Damn!" Potter had got through the Ravenclaws with a rolling dive and only just avoided braining himself on a bannister. A quick grab of railing, another grab of Draco and they were scrambling up the stairs which had the temerity to move. A pink spell splashed messily on the stair infront of Harry and began industriously eating through it.

"They're really not playing around." Malfoy had pulled them to a stop almost as soon as they'd left the stairs because the staircase had moved on immediately after they'd leapt off.

"No." Harry looked up and moaned.

"My thought exactly." Malfoy sighed and leant against a handy bit of wall, somehow managing not to look as if he'd just been running for his life.

"Think the staff will get here before the students find the courage to risk a nasty death on our heels?" Harry straightened his tie and retucked his shirt.

"They have every other time." Malfoy gave a tiny yawn. "You'd better repair your glasses again."

"Oh." Harry hastily waved his wand at the cracked lenses and then carefully settled his hair. "Clarity Potion...Sprite Solution..." He paused to consider his memory. "Soothing solution, boils, feverdew and flavoroid...I don't think anyone has messed up and caused an explosion without a cauldron?"

"For that, Mr Potter, you have earned yourself the right to ten feet on the perils of mispreparation of ingredients." Snape's voice came from the head of the stairs.

"Yes, sir." Harry didn't bother moving as there was undoubtedly more to come.

"You have until Christmas to complete it"

"Thankyou, sir." Harry entered some sleep into his future intentions in the short term.

"Mr Malfoy."

"Sir?"

"As many feet as you can relevently manage on burn salves, solutions and potions...and perhaps next time you will remember to get a burn treated before it gets that bad." Snape pointed and both boys hissed as they noticed Draco's forearm. The burn was ugly and welted, thin blackened lines cut through across the burn and skin was already beginning to flake.

"How the...?" Draco turned to Harry in confusion. "It doesn't hurt at all."

"It should be agony, Mr Malfoy, and it clearly isn't." Snape caught the arm and sniffed over the burn before waving his wand at it.

"It must have happened as I grabbed him." Harry looked at his own hand with a rather nauseated expression, there were flakes of skin adhering to his fingers. "I'm awfully sorry to have got you in trouble, Malfoy, but I must have pulled the pain unconsciously."

"I prefer feet of parchment on burn salves than how this undoubtedly will feel when it feels anything at all." Draco prodded the burn and gently brushed a few flakes of skin away.

"Infirmary, Mr Malfoy...and Mr Potter is going to be checked as well." Snape turned a scowl up to full power as he turned to Potter. "Then he's going to be spending the afternoon in my office while we endeavour to understand what this pain pulling thing of his is."

"Yes, sir." Potter looked more than a trifle dismal at this prospect.

"Sir, surely it is good he can pull pain." Malfoy looked up in confusion.

"Mr Malfoy, nothing is good if it is uncontrolled." Snape lead the way swiftly to the infirmary, satisfied to see that his scowl cleared even the most stubborn student of any thought of cursing the two boys who followed immediately on his heels.

"What have they done now, Professor?" Madame Pomfrey's tone was resigned.

"Not even the victim knows...but it includes a very bad burn." Snape pushed Malfoy and his arm forward for inspection and treatment.

"Just a glancing blow from a rather nasty hex." Pomfrey worked swiftly and cleared Malfoy for immediate departure after bundling him up in a sling. "Anything else"

"Scan Mr Potter, I am certain he is fine but I deem it judicious that he be checked." Snape pushed Harry forward and then scowled at Madame Pomfrey.

"You are correct, he is fine." Madame Pomfrey sniffed her findings and then swept back into her office.

"I do have a very rare talent." Harry resettled his robes and grabbed Draco's arm. "May we leave now, Professor"

"No." Snape's scowl only darkened as his attention returned to the two boys. "The pair of you are coming to my office"

"Yes, sir." The two boys followed Snape out the door.

"Why so unhappy about the Professor wanting to ascertain your pain pulling thing?" Draco asked his question in a hissed undertone.

"Every time he tries to ascertain anything he spends a couple of hours extracting my brains out through my ears and I've yet to hear anything except that apparently it would be in my best interests not to tell anyone anything about what I have no idea myself"

"You think he'll do it again"

"I see no reason to think he intends to approach this matter by another means." Harry scuffled his feet for a moment.

"Mr Potter." Snape swung open the door of his office and stalked across to his desk.

"Yes, sir." The two boys sank into the usual seats.

"Bend your tiny little brain to the task of thinking for just one tiny instance...what actually happens when you pull pain?"

"I don't know, sir." Harry watched in sudden fear as Snape seized his quill, an essay and a pot of red ink, this was obviously not going to be a brief interview.

"Have you ever simply reduced the pain?"

"I don't think so, sir." Harry frowned as he sorted around in his memories.

"What does pain tell us?"

"Umm." Harry stared down at his shoes.

"Mr Malfoy?"

"Injuries. Pain tells us we're injured."

"What happens, Mr Potter, if we ignore an injury?"

"It usually gets worse." Harry grimaced, suddenly realising where this was going. "Sir?"

"Mr Potter?"

"Do you...do you think it can be controlled?" Harry gulped somewhat convulsively.

"Everything can be controlled, Mr Potter...you just have to figure out how in some cases?"

"You actually know what his pain pulling is." Draco suddenly sat forward.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy...and it is completely uncharted territory among schoolboys." Snape laid the essay aside and suddenly looked sharply at the two boys. "What is your opinion of each other?" Snape smirked as the two boys responded with a wary look at each other.

"I think our society is being stupid and closed minded." Malfoy spoke abruptly.

"Mr Potter?"

"Malfoy watches my back without anyone realising it." Harry gave a sudden grin. "McGonagall even thinks that we hate each other."

"So, if Mr Malfoy's life were in danger"

"I would do everything within my power to save him."

"Mr Malfoy...how much pain would you be willing to suffer for Potter?"

"It would depend on why?" Malfoy was frowning as he tried to sort out Snape's logic. "If I deem the reason sufficient...I'd take cruciatus for him."

"Not avada kedavra?"

"No point." Malfoy suddenly smirked. "Harry can survive that anyway and I probably can't."

"Valid point, Mr Malfoy." Snape leant back with a quiet smirk of appreciation. "Mr Potter, I want you to turn you back to me and count to fifty."

"Yes, sir." There had been a longish moment before Harry responded and then he stood and turned away.

"Mr Malfoy, I wish you to stand by that bookcase." Snape waved his left hand at a bookcase and watched intently as Potter turned fractionally to watch his friend. "Now Mr Malfoy I am going to..." Snape stopped talking for his non-verbal spell was already at its target and it didn't impact as it should have...no need for the counter-curse. Malfoy's yell was smothered and Potter simply seemed puzzled.

"What did you do to Malfoy?" Potter seemed rather concerned for Malfoy was gaping like a fish.

"Nothing, Mr Potter, he is simply having difficulty comprehending what he just saw."

"What did he see?" Harry looked at Malfoy curiously.

"You...he..." Malfoy made a vague spluttering noise. "Snape hexed you...and it didn't take."

"Umm?" Harry looked at Snape in confusion, it was one thing for a student's spell not to take and quite another for Professor Snape's spell not to take.

"Your ability to pull pain, Mr Potter, has nothing to do with pain...what you actually pull is the malice from the injury. A spell cast in malice at you will not take...you are immune to them. A spell cast on a friend in malice will be reversed of the initial impact if you handle it." Snape looked at the two rather stunned boys. "I cast a malice hex...makes you feel hated and persecuted. Malfoy saw you absorb it because of its nature."

"If I absorb malice...where does it go?"

"That, Mr Potter, is the problem." Snape returned to his seat and waved the two boys to return to theirs. "I would presume at the present moment that malice is fueling your magic...doesn't mean you're a malicious person, just means you have absorbed too much malice from your environment and it has to go somewhere. Unfortunately Hogwarts does not teach malice spells...so at present you are proving to be a singularly ordinary wizard."

"I have to learn Malice Magic?" Harry was looking distinctly alarmed.

"No." Snape suddenly scowled. "What you need to learn is atmospheric absorbtion so you cease randomly pulling all malice in your vicinity into your being."

"Oh." Harry was officially confused.

"Precisely." Snape's scowl darkened.

"So this is why the scanner didn't work on him?" Malfoy was frowning.

"No scanner will work on Mr Potter." Snape gave a tired sigh. "Pomfrey should have reported numerous bruises earlier and she didn't. My scan should have reported numerous bruises and it didn't. Most scanner's work by inflicting a miniscule amount of pain and then observing your magic's reaction...Mr Potter absorbs intentional magical pain so scanners report absolutely nothing...including magic."

"Then why wasn't he a squib in the morning?"

"I'd be assuming that he was too asleep for him to fully absorb...hence he appeared as almost a squib as opposed to a complete squib."

"Oh." Malfoy blinked in confusion, it didn't make sense that magic wasn't a constant. "Can I ask my father about this?"

"No names, Mr Malfoy, and you may tell him it's a hypothetical essay topic awarded for successfully casting shield spells which are far beyond your current ability."

"Yes sir." Malfoy grimaced. "How many feet...and does this mean I have to stop casting them?"

"As many feet as you can manage...and no, Mr Malfoy, I am not going to insist you make you and your year vulnerable to the rest of the school simply because you're doing something rather unusual. I want you to know about shields so you can legitimately trust the thing...instead of simply saying a prayer and hoping for the best."

"Yes, sir." Malfoy grimaced again as he considered the essays piling up in front of him. "McGonagall is going to be so certain that I hate Potter after this that she is bound to pair us in classes in future...have you any suggestions which do not include several feet of essay on how to get good marks while still giving the impression of dislike?"

"Insults, Mr Malfoy, are a truly wonderful thing. A true art which the Gryffindors have never recognised."

"Yes, sir." Malfoy glanced at Potter and the two of them exchanged a look of glee.

"I will reassure the staff in General that I have you writing over twenty feet of essay in tandem as punishment for your poor behaviour and incomprehension of house solidarity...you'd best grab Zabini for the classes when you are in groups of three."

"Parkinson for Herbology where we're in fours." Malfoy spoke up firmly. "She's the goods with plants even if she doesn't like getting dirty."

"Miss Parkinson also comes with the advantage that while seeming to be an inveterate gossip, she is infact amazingly discreet on important matters."

"We will remember sir." The two boys rose and by a single glance recognised that their next stop was going to be the Commonroom, before a trip to the library since even upper year texts were unlikely to give them the information they needed for all their essays.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 6:

Explosive nature of Soothing Solution (and how might you know it has become potentially explosive in particular re: bile)H  
Possible outcomes of physical contact with a clarity potion How to prevent the explosion of a Sprite Solution when a firework has been added by another party (and how long do you have to act)D

Perils of ingredient mispreparation (ten feet by Christmas)H  
Burn salves, solutions and potions (as much as possible...and the more the better but must be relevent. Also by Christmas)D  
Shields Magical activity and the effects of sleep (why does a scanner get something in the morning but not at night?)

Harry Potter eyed the list and gave a soft groan which was mirrored by Draco. The list was horrific and they still had to do normal homework and attend classes.

"I'm thinking it would be inadviseable for us to get into trouble for a couple of weeks." Draco winced as he studied the list again for Potter was a trouble magnet and they were going to be together a lot until that list was all written up.He almost wished that the staff had not decided that he was an appropriate person to pair Potter up with when they'd separated him from Zabini...apparently they'd been talking in class.

"I'm thinking we need to generalise the topics into explosions and how to stop them, which will cover the material for the soothing solution and the Sprite Solution. Clarity potion will have to be separate, but ingredients and burns can probably be combined."

"Shields and magic can be partially combined." Draco winced again before sighing. "We start with Ingredients and Burns. We have until Christmas for both and they will give us a good grounding when it comes to working on the solutions and potions. We obviously will get all the others finished before we finish the burns and ingredients, but the start is important."

"Finish with shields and magic...so we're going to be living and breathing potion books for the next couple of months." Harry pulled his one text book out of his trunk and eyed it dismally. "I think we need to consult with Deralc about who best to approach for books of relevence on the topics."

"I owled my father last night for any books of relevence...and I sent a brief explanation of how I got so many detention essays in such a short time period." Draco grimaced. "Apparently I'm going to get a howler at dinner...he thinks it might make the school leave us alone for a couple of weeks."

"We should check the books in the common room before speaking to Deralc." Harry suddenly pushed their papers aside and stood up. "Come on."

"Right." Draco followed as they tumbled down the stairs into the commonroom to search for relevent books.

XXXXXX

Edward Deralc was confused. Snape had never 'awarded' such long, or so topically nasty, detention essays before...let alone given until Christmas to complete them. General consensus was that Malfoy was the best at Potions...but Snape himself couldn't get through those two essays if tied to a dunderhead, which Potter was rumoured to be, though Deralc had a feeling that that rumour had more to do with deliberate failure on Potter's part and the incompetence of Neville Longbottom at Potions. Most curious of all was the fact that neither boy seemed genuinely oppressed by the essays. Deralc was certain that the two boys had found some Slytherin advantage in those insane essays...and he was going to figure it out for himself before they finished writing said essays.

"Sir?" Deralc had politely knocked on Snape's office door and been invited in before he spoke.

"Take a seat." Snape was wielding his red inked quill with a certain malicious glee. Deralc was more than certain that the paper was from a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor.

"Malfoy and Potter were picking the brains of Flint and I this morning at hours fairly ungodly...I'd got up a bit after Flint started shift so we could finish a Quidditch debate we were having last night. Malfoy and Potter turned up almost before we'd settled in our seats to search the Slytherin Potions Library. They then asked us for some advice on the grounds that we were more familiar with the books...or to be precise Potter initially consulted Flint on the topic because apparently he'd helped once earlier in the year, and somehow we ended up spending an hour and a half working through the library with them."

"Point?" Snape had looked up with a frown.

"Have you any suggestions of appropriate texts for them to consult on Burn salves, solutions and potions...also...umm...the dangers of mispreparation of ingredients. We've cleaned out the Slytherin Library and the School Library seems far too vague and general for most of the books a search finds...and it seems too dangerous for them to spend much time in."

"Malfoy and Potter asked you to ask me?" Snape's brows had drawn together.

"No, sir. I came because I considered them not consulting you to be a curious ommission."

"I've no doubt they have their reasons." Snape had a faint smile on his face as he turned to his bookshelf and began pulling books off it. For a brief minute he vanished into his own laboratory, returning with two badly stained books and a very limp volume which seemed to exist by no reason other than magic it was so badly damaged. Three more books then joined the stack and Snape considered the stack before nodding briefly and with satisfaction. "That should be sufficient for them to start with...and you may tell them that they may consult me on the first of the month about essays."

"Yes, sir." Deralc grabbed the pile of books. "Prefects are permitted to help?"

"Malfoy and Potter may ask for help from anyone...make it clear that there are to be no volunteers though. I want those boys bargaining for aid, so I suggest you think of something you'd like them to do in return for getting these books for them...and a summary of their essays might not be a bad starting point."

"Yes, sir." Deralc started as a knock sounded at the door.

"Enter." Snape looked up with a darkening frown.

"Severus?" The quiet concern in the voice really did cause Snape's frown to turn black, Deralc had caused him to forget the whole reason he was in his office at all.

"Lucius." Snape waved Deralc to depart and carefully stashed his essays to one side.

"Trouble?" Lucius Malfoy carefully removed his coak and hung it on the small rack available for such purposes.

"No more than usual...for this year." Snape's tone was rather sour as he rearranged his desk in search of the letter from Lucius. It had arrived during breakfast and simply requested a meeting, which meant that Malfoy had probably been complaining about communal living...again. "What does Draco want altered now?"

"Quite a bit if I read my son correctly...but none of it is on his account...or even at this school, or at least not directly."

"Repeat that?" Snape looked up with a blink.

"Draco has been convinced to appreciate the advantages of communal living...to the point that he has requested a sibling or two."

"Interesting." Snape found the letter and cast a brief eye over it to refresh his memory. "You did explain that he'd be a sixth year before said sibling was old enough to even begin to be of use in that department."

"Yes...he then requested us to adopt him a brother."

"Indeed?"

"Yes." Lucius suddenly sank into one of the nearby chairs. "He even supplied a list of people whom he would consider appropriate."

"Very kind of him." Snape was struggling to swallow a grin.

"Indeed." Lucius' tone was now the sour one. "You'll probably even laugh if you knew who headed the list..and in fact was the entire list."

"I doubt it." Snape suddenly looked intently at Lucius. "Has Draco confessed anything about his activities regarding Mr Potter?"

"Nothing beyond stating that they share a dorm, that his clothes are atrocious, that his muggle family are far worse...and that he is a Slytherin."

"That I will most certainly confirm...Mr Potter is without question a Slytherin."

"How did you know that Draco has above average interest in the boy?"

"The fact that eight times in the past week alone he's cast a dark charm to protect Mr Potter."

"What?" Lucius had paled.

"Relax." Snape offered the man a drink of something which he only ever described as 'a bit stonger than water.

"Thanks." Lucius had choked and spluttered over his mouthful. "The Headmaster?"

"Couldn't care less, he presumes that the spell is vindictively meant and probably dreams of 'resocialising' your son, and that works so much better when said case has actually done something to require the resocialisation."

"Mr Potter's sorting into Slytherin has deranged the school that badly?"

"Oh, and then some." Snape leant backwards. "Potter managed in the first three weeks of term to land more detentions that his father and friends achieved in entire years. I think the best class was the first Transfiguration one when he managed to acrue eight detentions and lost a hundred and fifty points...infact the only classes that didn't cost him a vast number of detentions and points was Potions and History. The only place in the school where he is safe from any form of assault is the Slytherin Commonroom."

"Draco wasn't fooling around was he." Lucius rubbed his forehead and then tugged on an ear. "Can anything be done?"

"No more or less than is already happening. Slytherin protects it own and I am more than proud of them this year." Snape gave a quiet smile. "I'm almost amazed at their inventiveness...I'm not at all surprised by their vindictiveness though."

"Why hasn't this come before the Governors?"

"Lack of evidence." Snape sighed and rubbed his nose wearily. "That and the fact that even Draco will not officially complain."

"He writes of a wonderful new fitness program." Lucius Malfoy's tone was sour in the extreme and he then proceeded to down the remainder of his glass in a single mouthful. "You can imagine my delight when I found out from Mr Zabini that this 'fitness program' consisted of fleeing for his life down the Halls of Hogwarts."

"Be proud of your son, there are few, if any, who could match his skill for dodging and evasion of spell fire...he will be a formidable dueller if he continues to develop his skill."

"Obviously Mr Potter can."

"Mr Potter has the advantage of an upbringing where evasion and dodging are apparently required from birth." Snape refilled both of their glasses before dropping heavily back into his seat and distractedly pulling his stack of essays back to begin marking.

"What can you tell me of Potter?"

"Suprisingly little." Snape gave a shrug. "He's muggle-raised...but most of the staff conveniently forget that fact in their paranoia. Polite and quite well mannered. He has good taste in clothes...which his muggle relatives most certainly do not cater for. Intelligent, intuitive...with the usual attached curses which I intend to pound out of him. The Staff and Students alike assume him to be the Dark Lord reborn. The Headmaster...I'd almost say that he thinks that it is the Dark Lord...re-sized. Though once or twice he seems to have suffered an attack of conscience which never lasts past actually laying eyes on the boy. Neither Staff nor students seem to have rehabilitation in mind when it comes to their treatment of him...which is particularly odd given Dumbledore's usual stance on such matters. The boy can't move for curses, hexes, punches and trips. However actual damage inflicted is limitted or non-existant. Magically he seems to be uninspiring, but he's doing surprisingly well for the handicaps he is carrying." Snape gave a shrug and then lifted a curious eyebrow because Lucius had a distinct expression of pain on his face.

"What do you consider his life expectancy to be?"

"Very low." Snape hesitated for a very long moment before he spoke.

"Why?"

"The boy has some...symptoms of dark wizardry and our current environment is too paranoid for anyone to be even slightly rational about it when it gets out." Snape frowned. "Infact, I would say that Potter will be hard-pressed to survive this year unless the staff come to their senses."

"Damn." Lucius scowled and slumped in his seat. "That is just what I didn't need to know."

"Why?"

"Potter is the Black heir."

"What?" Snape wasn't quite certain what he felt, but it certainly wasn't happiness for Lucius.

"Precisely." Lucius scowled even more darkly. "I now HAVE to do something to preserve the boy's existance...and I refuse to adopt him because he is older than Draco."

"Stand guardian?" Snape wrinkled his brows. "Black should be able to sign across the legal guardianship if you can get in to see him."

"It won't be enough because Albus currently stands as magical guardian."

"Hell." Snape scowled. "You've been doing quite a bit of research haven't you?"

"You'd have done some research too if your son was asking you to adopt the boy."

"True." Snape's shoulders shook with sudden mirth.

"Yes, I am reassured by my sensitive and kindly wife that my face was quite the picture after I read that."

"The school does not realise that Draco and Potter are not enemies...I would encourage maintaining this fiction until you are specifically notified that they are friends."

"Asking me to adopt the boy isn't notification of friendship?"

"Easily passed off as Slytherin politics." Snape smirked. "The staff think they dislike each other so they are frequently paired up. They would be unhappy if that ceased before they were prepared to combat any attempt to separate them."

"Fair enough." Lucius scowled suddenly. "They are trying to punish Draco?"

"N-o." Snape frowned for a moment. "More a case of being too desperate to punish Potter without punishing their own precious housemembers. That and possibly a fear of contamination...after all, Malfoy's are notoriously dark."

"Ahh." Lucius gave a nod of comprehension before rubbing his forehead. "Balancing me and Potter against Black...could you be rational?"

"So that Unbreakable Vow is not just a rumour." Snape expression was almost awed.

"No, it is not a rumour." Lucius scowled. "Can you be rational about Black?"

"Completely...provided I don't think he's trying to put one over me. You figure out how to spring him from Azkaban and he'll never be smart-mouthed again...if for no other reason than that he will be second only to Potter as the ultimate evil in this world."

"I am of the opinion that everyone underestimated Black...including Black himself. But yes, I can spring him...though not this year."

"How?"

"They never gave him a trial and it has been ten years." Lucius smirked. "I make a fuss over the Family Tax Narcissa still has to pay to the Black Family and Gringotts will have to release the family ring. They'll have to test Black and it will take because the last I heard he was bewildering them completely by still being sane. They'll have imprisoned a Head of House without trial and they'll soon find that holding the Head of a House is an unparalled nightmare...particularly the Head of House Black. Then I'll politely point out the lack of trial...so they'll have to hold a trial, at which point they'll discover that after ten years magical evidence is inadmissable and so they'll have to release him."

"The thought of putting that over the Ministry makes Black on the loose more than tolerable." Snape smirked. "Be my guest, Lucius and do what you can."

"Thankyou." Lucius smirked again before giving himself a shake and somehow managing to look like he was dying to get moving. "Might I see Draco?"

"I shall summon both Draco and Harry...I've no doubt but that you'd like to meet the boy."

"Thankyou." Lucius gave a smile. "I have been slack of late and was unable to think of a reason to persuade you to summon the boy as well."

"Have another drink and I'll get the two boys...you'll have them for Christmas on my orders." Snape moved to the door.

"Right." Lucius moved to refill his glass at the unmarked bottle, he certainly would never tell the world that Severus Snape had a taste for Muggle Brandy.

XXXXXX

"Professor Snape handed these over to you?" Potter was eyeing the stack of books Deralc had arrived in the common room with as if Christmas had come early and he couldn't wait to get at them.

"Ooh, Compendium of Burns." Malfoy was almost sniffing one of the books.

"The Professor also said that you were permitted to consult him on the first of the month about essays." Deralc placed the books on a convenient tabletop, which just happened to be a corner table where the boys worked on their homework.

"Thankyou, Deralc." The boys spoke in unison as they grabbed a book each and started looking through them.

"I want a copy of the final essays." Deralc stepped backwards as he spoke.

"All of them?" Potter looked slightly startled but not at all worried. "Right." The boy was back into his book.

"Never be afraid to ask for help." Deralc moved off as he spoke, somehow he had a feeling that 'all of them' was more than two and it was an unsettling feeling.

XXXXXX

"Mr Malfoy." Snape swept into the Slytherin Commonroom and looked around for his targets. "Mr Potter."

"Back corner behind the books." Flint supplied the information without even looking up. Snape nodded and swept across the room and around the bookshelf to where the two boys were to be found working at a private table. The seventh years probably objected to the loss of the table where studying was rarely done, but Snape doubted that they minded these two trouble-makers were not permanently underfoot and on their minds to remind everyone of the points they lost most days. House loyalty did have its limits after all and these two were definitely testing the boundaries.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Snape stopped next to the table and swallowed his smirk at the towers of books and rolls of parchment.

"Transfiguration Essay we just remembered." Malfoy looked up and rubbed his face. "Did you want us for something particular, sir?"

"Your father is here and wishes to see you before his departure...he also wishes to meet your partner in crime?"

"Yes, sir." Malfoy carefully placed a fragment of paper in the book he'd been reading and kicked the boy across from him. "Potter!"

"Yes?" Potter looked up with a vague blink.

"My father's here and we're going to meet. Get up so I can charm the table."

"Right." Potter hastily closed his book and laid his quill aside before jumping back as Malfoy put a dome ward over the table.

"Reason for that precaution?" Snape's brows rose at the sight of the ward.

"Prevents papers from blowing around or the table being disrupted." Malfoy pocketed his wand.

"It also prevents people from seeing what is on your table, or touching the contents."

"Oh." Malfoy gave a shrug. "My father taught it to me before I came and told me to make sure I used it if ever I left a private study table temporarily without packing away my work."

"Fair enough." Snape nodded briefly and then escorted the two boys back to his office for a brief meeting with Lucius Malfoy where nothing particular was said, but quite a lot was learnt by both sides about each other. Snape had left to escort Potter back to the commonroom, well aware that Lucius was going to want to talk in private with his son.

"Draco?" Lucius was frowning slightly as he studied his heir.

"Father?" Draco's mask of well-bred neutrality was perfect as he met his father's gaze.

"You are friends with Potter?"

"I don't know." Draco lifted his chin slightly. "At the present moment we have an alliance of convenience."

"Why?"

"Because somehow I was always getting caught up in his strife and we simply ended up with too much to do by ourselves."

"Is Potter a friend of yours?" Lucius had considered things for a brief moment before rephrasing his question.

"Yes, sir." Draco's mouth tightened slightly to reinforce the tensioning of hs whole frame.

"Why?"

"I don't know, sir." Draco shifted his gaze rather abruptly to his father's ear, it was the closest he was ever allowed to get to staring at his feet. "I just know he is."

"Advantages?"

"He's shown me that it doesn't matter what others say as long as I know what the truth is." Draco brought his gaze back to his father's grey eyes. "He challenges my mind in a way this school and most of its staff cannot. I learn more from interacting with him than anyone other than Professor Snape."

"I have received the distinct impression that his life both here, and outside of school, is undesirable."

"Yes, sir." Draco frowned slightly. "He lives with magic-hating muggles, is given second hand clothes, doesn't get enough to eat and is treated on par with a House Elf."

"How do you know?"

"He came to school in the most horrible rags and had one other set of even worse rags in his trunk. The rags have someone else's initials on the tags and are about ten sizes too large for him. He's been gaining a bit of weight in the months since school started, but he's always smuggling food away...and he's never once complained even though he's had to scrub about half the floors in the castle with a toothbrush and an abusive audience."

"Anything else?"

"Only bruises."

"I see." Lucius fell silent as he considered the information he'd just been given. Death-Eater, power-hungry and a sadist he might be, but first an foremost Lucius Malfoy was a family man and he took pride in the fact that he had never cast an unforgiveable on any child, or raised a hand with violent intent against one. That anyone would raise a hand in violence against a child, or ignore the fact that another was raising a violent hand, was an act Lucius considered more foul than any act he had ever committed in his life.

"Can we do anything, sir?"

"I do not know, Draco." Lucius brought his attention back to his son. "But Potter will not return to his relatives ever again...even if it means we kidnap him every holiday he leaves the school for."

"Yes, sir." Draco gave a small bow, stepped back to the door and then paused. "I do not feel like I can desert him sir...so I fear you will hear more during the school year."

"You would not be my son if you did desert him." Lucius finally smiled. "You have my permission to call him family and treat him as such."

"Thankyou, sir." Malfoy jerked another brief bow before he quietly slid out of the room and returned to the Commonroom, aware of having passed Professor Snape who was leaning against the wall and reading while he waited.. "A Slytherin to the bone." Lucius was smirking as Snape re-entered the Office. "I cannot wait to see Black facing off against him."

"Assuming Black is sane enough to be of any use after all this time." Snape spoke dryly.

"Black is as sane as ever...not that that is saying much." Lucius gave a small shake of his head. "The warders see him once a year and his degree of sanity unsettles them."

"How do you know that?"

"One of the perks of being close to the Minister and not being considered an immensely superior being." Lucius smirked again. "Fudge tells me all sorts of interesting things when he gets muddled and confused by his own blind ambition."

"Then the disadvantages far outweigh the perks." Snape began idly scribbling on a bit of parchment. "What are your intentions with Potter?"

"I want him included in all of Draco's extracurriculars...I'll kidnap him if need be. The boy has too much power and ambition to not be taught what the demanded price will be." Lucius' eyes narrowed. "If nothing else it will ensure that he always thinks favourably of the Malfoys."

"Thankyou, Lucius and please keep me up to date with any developments."

"Certainly." Lucius collected his cloak before smiling quietly. "Only you, Severus, holds a serious conversation while simultaneously pushing your calculational iterations through."

"Anything else?" Snape had reddened slightly, hardly aware of what he'd been doing while talking, but half a glance had proven Lucius correct, he had pushed a further thirteen iterations through while talking.

"No, but I'll be in touch with you." Lucius waved a hand as he gathered his coat. "They'll make quite a pair in the next few years and probably take the school by force in their fifth year."

"Provided they have the chance." Snape's quiet response caused Lucius' glee to waver, for the dangers lay not just in the hands of the school, and in the real world the dangers were often far worse than a hex or a three headed dog...which apparently resided on the third floor and Draco had told him about over a week ago after they'd found the out of bounds corridor wonderful refuge from the school in general when things got too hot.

"We'll give them that chance come hell or high water." Lucius Malfoy swept from the room, leaving a quietly contemplative Snape behind. It would probably be both hell and high water which would stand in their way.

XXXXXX

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and thanks for your patience with the irregular posting. Glad you're enjoying it and I hope you continue to. I write as it comes for my own entertainment and if a character seems out of wack, all I ask is for a little patience, the story is very young yet and there is always a reason behind my more insane activities. Mass Hysteria is an odd thing at the best of times and Harry isn't helping at all.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 7:

"Malfoy." It was Pansy Parkinson who drew up a seat at the table where the two boys were to be found during any given hour, unless they were asleep, in class, eating or madly running for their lives. Even eating they seemed to have at least one book apiece on hand. It was the mystery of the dungeons why the two were sinking this much effort into detention essays, though rumour had it that at least one was over three feet in length.

"Parkinson." Malfoy looked up from his book with a blink and a shake of his head.

"What's the work?"

"Detention." Malfoy pushed back from the table with a sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"I thought detention was scrubbing cauldrons?"

"It is, if you're guilty." Draco gave a sudden grin. "We weren't fighting though, just weren't able to run away like the Gryffs who attacked Zabini. Snape gave us applicable topics...we're going to get top marks in Potions if nothing else."

"How is that possible? The Gryffs keep wrecking them on us." Parkinson was frowning.

"Potter has an essay on explosions. I have an essay on stopping explosions. We're taking our detention a step further by utilising the knowledge in advance for every class so we can stop the explosions." Malfoy glanced across the table at Potter who was rubbing his eyes tiredly. "It was Potter's idea that last bit."

"So that's why Longbottom hasn't exploded or melted a cauldron in over a week." Parkinson's expression was one of awe.

"I like that." Malfoy sniffed in disgust. "I've been preventing both Crabbe and Goyle from killing the rest of us."

"Those two are nothing on Longbottom." Parkinson gave a snort.

"It has been a bit of a challenge to stop things without anyone noticing." Potter had pushed back from his own book and was rubbing his eyes. "We're doing snapdragons in Herbology tomorrow...got anything on how to avoid trouble if the Ravenclaws stir them up?"

"I'll be back in a minute." Parkinson rose swiftly from her seat and almost leapt back to the table she had come from, in less than a moment she was back with the three other girls who'd been sorted into Slytherin. "We want in."

"Sorry?" Malfoy blinked in confusion.

"We all study together." Parkinson was clearly determined. "You have Potions and Defense firmly under control. I have Herbology. Daph here is good at Transfiguration when you pin her down on the topic."

"Potter could sleep through Charms if there weren't the problem of Flitwick taking points for inattention." Nott had somehow come up behind the four girls with Zabini in tow.

"Zabini does sleep through History and still answers any questions." Potter spoke with a sudden smirk at the green-haired Zabini who scowled back, turned his hair black and made it stand on end and stick every which way.

"Nott is no slouch at Charms either since he knows that Potter is faking incompetence." One of the girls spoke up suddenly.

"Get another two tables over here." Malfoy was suddenly galvinised into action as he realised the potential of what was being planned. "We need two volunteers for policing the real essays and assignments."

"Tracey and I." The girl who'd identified Nott spoke bluntly. "We manage all classes but I wouldn't say we're good at anything...though I'm good at essays and Tracey is always making lists and planning how to do things."

"I'll take Defence, Nott has Charms, Potter has Potions, Greengrass has Transfiguration, Parkinson has Herbology and Zabini has History. We've got Bulstrode and Davis policing us so we hand in the right essays at the right times."

"You're not taking Potions?" Millicent Bulstrode spoke up with a frown.

"No way." Malfoy shook his head firmly. "I was cursing our essays like anything until Potter pointed out the advantages of the two in combination. I'm solid at Potions, he's little short of a genius if you want my honest opinion...though he's no slouch at any topic." The last was added with a sour scowl.

"And he claims it doesn't matter." Potter had been pulling one of the nearby tables over, but he stopped to respond.

"D'you think we can do it?" The girl, Tracey Davis, spoke softly.

"Do what?" Nott frowned because Bulstrode, Potter, Parkinson and Malfoy all seemed to understand the question and were looking thoughtful.

"Take the year." Potter supplied the answer. "We've got at least one person for every topic, we're banding together and we're Slytherins...you do the maths."

"I never thought of that." Nott seemed amazed, but suddenly very focussed. "We have to keep Potter away from the teachers though, the rest of us ask any questions...and we can use Malfoy's father to protest Potter's marks at the end of the year."

"No." Potter shook his head firmly.

"Why not?" Nott seemed confused.

"I prefer the pleasant thought of what I'll do in the future when I let the Gryffs realise just how badly they underestimated me in their prejudice."

"Right." Nott had suddenly sat down and grabbed his charms book. "Remind me not to annoy you, Potter, you've got a very nasty feel to you when you sneer like that...makes Snape almost pleasant."

"I agree." Parkinson had stepped away to grab her Herbology text. "It will take us at least a week to get this fully arranged, but I'm confident that we'll upset the standings."

"Parkinson and Malfoy are targetting positions one and two in the year." Potter had been scribbling on a scrap of paper. "Nott and Greengrass, top ten...but preferably top five...meaning three and four. Zabini, you want Bulstrode and Davis ahead of you...and I'd like the three of you in the top fifteen at worst."

"We have a target." Zabini was smirking as he moved away to grab the remaining books which had not yet migrated into the corner from his former table and the girl's table.

"Crabbe and Goyle?" Potter lifted an eyebrow.

"They want power...bodyguards but otherwise relatively useless. They can be bought by anyone who offers the right price." Nott gave the response, but Malfoy nodded his agreement.

"Not but what we probably can't all be bought for the right price...but this undertaking is safe enough." Davis took her remaining books and papers from Zabini. "Thanks, this is going to be a lot more fun as long as we really do remember why we're doing it and what we're going to achieve."

"Aim and Rules." Bulstrode gave a grin and brandished her quill vigorously. "A little reminder for every day about what we're doing and why."

"For now, Parkinson is going to lecture us on Snapdragons while we arrange ourselves and figure out our class groupings."

"Potter and Malfoy, Zabini and Nott, Parkinson and Davis, Greengrass and Bulstrode...for when we have to partner, the teachers won't be surprised since they all believe that the Professor is forcing Potter and Malfoy to partner everywhere but Potions. Malfoy, Parkinson, Potter and Davis for groups of four like Herbology...Zabini's pretty good at Herbology."

"Then that's settled." Parkinson gave a nod as Bulstrode finished her listing and placed her finger firmly on the page her herbology text was currently open to. "Snapdragons, one of the more vicious..." Pansy scowled at the pained groan from both Malfoy and Potter, not that she blamed them because theirs were undoubtedly going to be riled in every possible way during any lesson. However, she had a lecture to give on a loved topic and no amount of fuss from boys was going to stop her when they'd volunteered to listen.

XXXXXX

Draco Malfoy was flinging the hard candies at the far wall of his dormitory one at a time, catching them on the rebound and rethrowing them before adding a second candy to the cycle. Zabini was being his usual interfering self and trying to intercept the candies at varying points in their flight. The candies were a weekly gift from his mother, they tasted dreadful but made the breath very fresh. Malfoy had either thrown the candies away or given them to Crabbe and Goyle until Potter had discovered that they bounced so beautifully. Potter had discovered their marvellous ability to bounce when he'd thrown a handful at Draco in annoyance because he'd realised that Draco did not require to be within earshot to eavesdrop on a conversation. To date Draco had managed to sustain eight candies in flight without a drop...though sad experience taught him that addition of a ninth candy would lead to failure. Zabini had not been around that day. Potter could manage nine and sometimes even ten candies, even with Zabini around and Draco took comfort by swearing that Potter used magic to do it. Currently, Malfoy was satisfied with maintaining a mere five candies in flight, he found the rhythmic nature of the activity soothing and conducive to clear thought...he also knew that any more and Zabini might actually intercept one.

"I better not have to fish any of those candies out of my bed." Nott was scowling from the doorway.

"That only happened because Potter was trying to keep eleven in cycle." Malfoy carefully caught the candies and restored them to their bag. "Or because Zabini put them there."

"Oi!" Zabini hair turned flame red and after a moment of thought his face changed into the features of Ron Weasley to match the hair.

"The truth, my son..." Nott settled on his own bed with a grin as he intoned his views. "...is rarely palatable."

"Oh, shut up!"

"He's even got the aguing capacity correct." Draco Malfoy was feeling even more than averagely sour about Ron Weasley today, since the idiot had nailed him with an underpowered tripping jinx when his back was turned and it had stayed with him half the day before Potter had tried the counter in annoyance at Draco's ongoing little trips and stumbles.

"Bit sour are you?" Nott had made some lovely mileage early on asking for photographs and postcards, which had reduced Potter, Zabini and Greengrass to absolute hysterics.

"He'll pay." Draco spoke with comfortable certainty as he tucked his feet up and yawned, then frowned. "The candies did not bring you stalking in here in a huff. Problem?"

"Yes." Nott's scowl returned even more darkly. "Why do we put up with Potter?"

"You are referring to the fact that being in his vicinity leads to hexes, jinxes, physical violence and not infrequent points loss?"

"Yes...and now we're apparently in a study group with him." Nott's scowl turned ferocious. "Just why isn't that suicidal?"

"Well, for my part I'd say it has a lot to do with the boy-who-lived thing, the fact he's a Potter and the fact that in the long run he'll be very, very bad news if you're on his bad side. There's also the little fact that he's so damn good at Potions that even Longbottom can't wreck his work and that in Charms, Transfiguration and Defense he's solidly up in the class even with the vicious deductions paranoid teachers are still giving him. There's also the fact that he's a Slytherin and I'll be damned if any Slytherin in my year is left to be massacred by the remaining idiots at this school."

"Damn!" Nott sank backwards to stare up into the canopy. "I was looking for an excuse to get out of this mess and you've simply repeated what I've already said which convinced me to stay...which annoys me. Particularly since you made it sound even more convincing than before."

"Of course, I'm a Malfoy." It was superbly done. Nott gave a strangled snort which broke Zabini's facade and soon the two boys were rolling around in hysterical laughter while Draco scowled irritably down at them.

XXXXXX

"Where is Mr Potter?" Professor Mcgonagal had scanned the Great Hall for an intent moment before turning to Snape in visible annoyance.

"The Headmaster's Office, as he always is on thursday evenings." Snape helped himself to another potato after giving the matter some careful consideration.

"What has he done now?"

"Absolutely nothing, it is merely his weekly appointment with the Sorting Hat."

"Appointment with the Sorting Hat?" McGonagal blinked in slight confusion before casting her colleague a narrow look.

"It was part of his Sorting which the Hat insisted upon. Mr Potter is required to meet the Hat once a week for private couselling."

"What?" McGonagal blinked at Snape. "Why?"

"I do not consider myself an expert on the sanity of the Sorting Hat." Snape considered his meal for a moment before he began systematically consuming the contents of his plate, starting as always with the last two potatoes before working his way around the plate in a clockwise direction and finishing with the first potato on his plate. "Possibly, however, it recognised at the sorting that Mr Potter's home life was less than splendid and considered it adviseable to give him an ally who cannot betray him."

"But..." McGongal ground to a halt before her cheeks reddened slightly.

"Afterall, who else in this school outside of Slytherin even gave him a chance after he was sorted."

"But..." McGonagal stopped again, unable to meet Snape's black eyes.

"You treated me far better than you've ever treated him...and I was a willing Slytherin, unlike Mr Potter." Snape continued to eat his meal and ignored the woman next to him. He knew perfectly well that Minerva would have changed her tune within the first week had Potter been normal, her innate sense of justice would have demanded it. Fear and Potter's immunity to hexes had overridden her logic, though, and in truth Snape considered it a major victory that he'd managed to eliminate the staff propensity to dock points and award detention for no other reason than because the boy actually arrived in the classroom. Potter's life would probably have been very different if he'd actually been hospitalised during his first week, as he should have been. As it was, Potter was unhexable and anyone who came up against him almost always ended up needing to be either unhexed by a classmate, or helped to the infirmary for treatment. Even Snape couldn't blame Poppy Pompfrey for her paranoia about the boy, though he did hope it would pass slightly quicker than the rest of the problems with the staff.

"Severus...?" McGonagal seemed uncertain.

"He's the only son of two of your favourite lions and his only ambition is to get the hell away from the house he grew up in." Snape finished his meal before standing up. "Please inform the Headmaster that I will not be attending any staff business tonight."

"St Mungoes?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Snape hesitated. "If you do happen to see Mr Potter, tell him I require his presence in my laboratory as soon as possible."

"Why?"

"I wish to blow him up." Snape swept away leaving Minerva McGonagal to wonder whether he was serious or not.

XXXXXX

"Dear, dear, dear." The hat sighed as it shuffled around on Harry's head. "What am I to do with you, Mr Potter? You're meant to be cowed and scared, not organising study groups and plotting for Slytherin to dominate your year."

"Why did Hogwarts drop me through a staircase and somehow cause that to lead directly to Professor Snape's head? He was four stories down and quite a bit across." Harry was not distracted by the hat's sense of humour.

"Would you believe that she thought it would be fun?"

"Yes." Harry slumped slightly. "But couldn't she have thought it fun to drop me next to the Professor, or preferably just outside the Professor's laboratory door?"

"I doubt it." The hat scuffled around again and definitely smirked. "Did you enjoy watching the Professor blow his way through the walls?"

"He made me blow up two of the walls and then assigned me a detention for destruction of Hogwarts property."

"Essay this time?"

"As many feet as I can manufacture on Magical Explosions...and the effect of Malice Magic on those explosions."

"Feel a lot better though for your little foray into genuine malice don't you?"

"Professor Snape warned me that I do not actually feel better, it's just that my accumulated malice is apparently significantly reduced and that would make anyone feel good."

"Professor Snape is someone who would understand the truth of that." The hat shuffled again.

"Are you trying to learn dancing up there by any chance?" Harry twisted his head slightly to squint at the interior of the hat.

"Why do you ask?"

"You're shuffling around like it's dance class and you really can't stand the thought of asking the teacher for help."

"More likely that you nits make me twitchy, Little Brimless."

"I do not have nits...though I'm sure I can find some for you before I next show face up here."

"That will be quite unnecessary, Little Brimless."

"I had wondered if I was going to escape that name...no such luck apparently."

"Little Brimless, you are at a serious disadvantage when you try to lie to me." The hat shuffled again, this time deliberately attaining a rather raffish angle as it dangled off one side.

"Big Brim?"

"Little Brimless?"

"Are you trying to fall off?"

"Certainly." The hat shuffled back to a more standard position.

"Now we've had that little debate...will you answer the original question?"

"Possibly, Mr Potter, the question is more something in your brain which I want to ask about and haven't quite cobbled together the nerve to ask about."

"I thought you were a Gryffindor hat?"

"I could hardly achieve an objective sorting if I was only Gryffindor." The hat sniffed. "Besides which courage is neither an absence of sense, nor an absence of fear...it is simply the belief that something is more important."

"So the brave Gryffindor is just as scared as the cowardly Slytherin, but deems the issue to be more important than the fear."

"Slytherin is cunning, ambitious and sometimes sly...there is no prerequisite of cowardice to be found in the House's identities."

"Not if you believe the other houses."

"What do you consider the trait to be?"

"Self-preservation." Harry gave a small snort and then frowned for he'd just remembered that he'd forgotten to arrange for an escort to meet him at the Gargoyle and he knew that there would be an escort of Gryffs waiting for him.

"Little Brimless...do you actually think that I'd let you get attacked like that?" The hat had clearly pulled some of Harry's concern from his mind.

"What on earth can you do to stop it?"

"I heard a distinct 'you're a hat' sneer in that comment Mr Potter."

"I consider it to be a valid concern."

"Then you need to learn that in this school we deal with magic and nothing is simple...least of all hats!"

"Gyaah!" It was a muted gurgle Harry gave as some came out of the hat and slid down his neck. "What the..." Harry fumbled around before yanking forward a fistful of material to squint at.

"That, Mr Potter, is an irreplaceable heirloom which has been in your family since no one is quite sure when."

"Oh." Harry had managed to pull the entire length of whatever it was free of the hat, and the back of his neck. "Why was it in you then?"

"Because Hogwarts stole it and there was nowhere else to put it in the couple of seconds available." The hat gave a snort and a shuffle. "When you leave, cover yourself completely in it."

"Why did Hogwarts have to steal it?"

"Because she felt you needed it."

"How did she steal it?" Harry choked momentarily and then blinked. "I mean, how was one of my family heirlooms in a location where she could steal it? She's a castle."

"Said family heirloom was in the castle, she just moved it from the safe place it had been put in to a position she considered more safe."

"Namely inside you." Harry sighed wearily.

"Precisely, for what is stored inside me is only ever released to those who have a right to it...and they also must have a need for the item and ask for it."

"Oh." Harry slumped wearily. "Now what do I do?"

"I would suggest getting under the cloak and departing...Hogwarts seems to think you'd like to swing by the Potions Master's Laboratory."

"Why?"

"Apparently he's got something which she thinks will be interesting to you." The hat shuffled. "Hang on, kiddo, keep your head and things will play out in the long run."

"Thanks, Big Brim." Harry hesitated for a moment before quickly returning the hat to its shelf. He had the cloak over his head and he slipped from the room in pensive silence. Hogwarts was better than Privet Drive, at least here he had some people on his side. It was hard though, sometimes it just seemed impossible...Snape's Laboratory? No one had ever been in there. What on earth could Snape be thinking? Harry slipped past two groups of students who seemed to be waiting for him...curious, they didn't notice him. What would Snape have in his Laboratory? Why would Hogwarts think it important that he go there? Harry slipped down another corridor and then cursed as he felt the odd jelly-like quality of the floor underfoot. Last time this happened he'd ended up on Snape's head...this time he arrived next to the door. Harry froze. Snape had looked up sharply from a thick black book, a frown darkening his features as he looked around sharply.

"Potter?" It was a soft query and the tone held a lot of doubt.

"Yes, sir." Harry stepped out from under the cloak and folded it up carefully.

"Where did you get that from?" Snape seemed to be controlling something with a great deal of difficulty.

"The Sorting Hat said it belongs to my family and Hogwarts had to steal it from a safe place in the Castle to get it to me." Harry shrugged before pushing the cloak into a pocket. "The hat seemed to think it would help me avoid trouble in the hallways."

"It will." Snape swallowed whatever he'd been battling and turned back to his book. "It's an invisibility cloak...but I suggest a muffling charm on your feet when you use it."

"Yes, sir." Harry hesitated for a moment. "Hogwarts seemed to think I should come here."

"Thank Hogwarts for me if you can." Snape pushed across the book he was looking at. "Sinistra's been teaching you Arithmancy?"

"Yes." Harry blinked in confusion.

"She says you have a rare knack for handling stuff you shouldn't be able to understand."

"Oh." Harry hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to look at the book.

"Get the hang of that book...with particular reference to that chapter as soon as you can." Snape grimaced as a small detonation occured on the otherside of the room. "Ignore the explosions, they can't get through the wards...and any damage they do is reversed immediately afterwards."

"Odd." Harry shuffled a bit closer to the book and squinted at it doubtfully.

"Thanks." Snape headed back across to the cauldron and the pile of scribbled notes he was more than eager to get back to. Potter invariably performed better when completely ignored after having been handed the impossible. Was he stupid handing the work over to Potter? Who knew. Sinistra said the boy was uncanny and right now Snape needed an arithmantic miracle because this cauldron sure as hell did not contain just a potion. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 8:

Potions Master Severus Snape was projecting the full power of his most intimidating scowl at the black cauldron which sat in front of him. If pewter had the capacity to quiver that cauldron's knees would have knocked with a speed the envy of any flamenco dancer's heels. The contents of the cauldron were explosive...as proven by the fact that it exploded reliably every five minutes. There also seemed to be some charms involved, since every time the cauldron blew itself apart it also repaired itself and resumed boiling in preparation for another explosion. Infact the only unknowns were how the wretched thing ever came about...and whether it could ever be stopped. Snape would have assumed the effort to be a Weasly twin prank, except for the fact that the cauldron had come from St Mungo's after their potions experts had failed to achieve anything more useful than causing the explosions to separate by only two minute intervals. The cauldron's contents were supposed to be a home-brewed cough remedy, and perfectly safe...it was a sad fact that the mother had not decided to keep her potions laboratory off-limits to brats. The potion had been sampled by a five year-old girl, who now resided at St Mungo's and exploded every five minutes and had been doing so for over a month now...the janitors were not happy. Snape couldn't care less about the little girl. Snape wasn't even vaguely interested in the infernal girl's idiotic mother who'd decided that OWL level potions gave you the expertise to experiment with potion composition. Snape would happily have ignored the whole mess and have kicked the healer out of his dungeons on the grounds that it was of no interest to him...until he'd actually watched the explosion occur. Potions cauldrons did not automatically rebuild and refill with exactly what they'd had in them prior to the explosion. However, if this freak anomaly could be controlled... Snape's scowl darkened by a further two notches as he began scribbling on a tatty piece of paper. Ahh, what James Potter would have said if he'd ever realised that one of his pranks had made it possible for Severus Snape to guarantee that his potions notes were never endangered, even when he blew a laboratory out of existance and himself into a hospital...which he'd actually achieved twice. Very painful. Snape winced as a fragment of cauldron took him above the right eye. He needed to recast the wards around that little cauldron...but first he was going to see if the composition would balance if he added a measure of Potter's inert goop. If this didn't work he was going to be reduced to waiting until Potter had achieved some miracle with arithmancy. Sinistra swore by the boy as an arithmancer and right now he needed something. Even if all they achieved was making the explosive period six minutes instead of five it would be a godsend, a whole extra minute to meddle with the cauldron's composition before it re-set itself. Snape swore again, even Potter's amazing inert goop had failed to prevent the explosion. Snape recast the wards on the cauldron and settled down to glower at it in hopes that inspiration would strike soon.

XXXXXX

"Bloody Gryffindors!" Draco Malfoy was snarling not so softly to himself as he walked as swiftly as was decently allowed in quest of Potter. He'd almost missed it when they'd neatly abstracted him from the House line. He'd never have got away at all if Zabini and Nott hadn't promised to cover for him

He hadn't been half fast enough getting himself out to go in pursuit, by the time he'd managed to find them again they'd lost Potter and were headed for their commonrooms and trying to decide on an alibi. Draco had simply sworn to himeself, avoided them and stopped to try and think of what to do next.

Now Draco was combing the lower levels of the school in quest of the black-haired boy. His only sense of comfort was that no matter what happened, Potter would not head down into the dungeons because there were many better hiding places in the upper floors when the dungeons had a troll in an unknown location.

"What are you doing here?" The Weasley had applied a few steps of run behind his shove and slammed Malfoy into the wall.

"Looking for Potter." Malfoy carefully stabilised himself against the wall and located his position within the castle...the second floor.

"Why? Want to play with the Troll?"

"On the second floor? Give it up, Weasley, you are not smart." Malfoy shook his head and moved down the hallway as quickly as he dared. Who knew about Weasley and his sense of smell, but Malfoy was smelling far too much smell of something nasty to believe that the wretched troll was still in the dungeon...much as he would have loved to have blamed the stench on Weasley. He had to find Potter and he had to find the boy now!

It was a yelp which let Malfoy know he was on the right path and very near his target. That yelp of Potter's was truly unique...and in any other person would probably have been a scream of agony. Malfoy accelerated to a sprint and tore down the long hallway. He found both Potter and the Troll in the small classroom at the end...and the troll was occupying over half the room. How Potter had avoided being hit seemed to be a miracle unless you remembered just how well he could run and dodge. The boy seemed to be simply bouncing around the troll as opposed to actually ducking or dodging.

"Cool!" Weasley's exclamation caused Malfoy to feel an intense, and very low, desire to bury his fist in the boy's face. The exclamation had distracted Potter, causing him to crash heavily into one wall. Fortunately it had also distracted the troll and Malfoy siezed the chance, diving into the room, grabbing Potter and diving back out just before the troll's club destroyed the wall and doorway...and act which would have killed Potter had he still been in the room.

"Potter?" Malfoy had pulled them into a small side corridor.

"Sorry." Potter's words weren't really needed, Malfoy had already figured that Potter was not going to be any use as a wand since he seemed hard pressed to be conscious at all.

"Any suggestions?"

"Make it lose the club." They both flinched as rock shattered down around them.

"Right." Malfoy frowned.

"Levitate it."

"Wingardium Leviosa." Malfoy blinked, both because the spell worked and because the troll was so stupid that it didn't realise that it had lost it's club. "More ideas, Potter, running and hiding is your specialty not mi..." Malfoy grunted for Potter had suddenly yelped and dropped all his weight awkwardly to one side. The cheer from Weasley reassured Malfoy that Potter's inconsiderate behaviour had not been voluntary. That did not change the fact that they were both now flat on the floor and Malfoy had lost control of the troll's club...which had hit something hard. Weasley yelped again and there was a sickening thunder of shattering stone.

"Sorry." Potter somehow managed to roll aside so Draco could get to his feet again.

"No problem, it seems the troll was under the club when I lost control." Malfoy moved over to kick the troll gently before moving back to pull Potter off the ground.

"That is a relief." Potter had gone an odd shade of white and Malfoy did not consider it encouraging.

"Why did you kick him?" Malfoy turned on Weasley as he settled Potter against his shoulder.

"He was being an irritating, know-it-all prat."

"We were fighting a troll!"

"So what!...and you'd never have listened to me you're that bloody prejudiced." Weasley's response seemed senseless and completely inapplicable to anything, but then it made perfect sense for the next sound was made by Professor McGonagall.

"Language, Mr Weasley...and will someone kindly explain what has happened here?" Her voice made Malfoy exchange a look with Potter before he turned around and discovered that they actually had a three professor audience...and one of that audience guaranteed that no matter what happened, it would not be suspension or instant expulsion. Professor Snape was looking livid, but even that was preferable to his not being present at all.

"I heard Potter and Malfoy plotting to try fighting the troll for themselves. I was coming to look for a staff member when I found them cornered in here and leant a hand."

"Injured, Mr Malfoy?" Snape had clearly not bothered listening to Weasley's response.

"I'm fine sir, apart from a couple bruises. Potter hit the wall pretty hard though and probably should get fixed up soon...he's conscious, but not really functional otherwise."

"Then get him to the hospital wing." Snape turned an ear back to his colleagues as Malfoy shuffled off down the corridor with Potter hanging off his shoulder. Snape sneered as he registered the point adjustments McGonagal was making before he swept around and departed himself, Malfoy was never going to make it to the Hospital Wing with Potter draped over his shoulder unless he got some help from somewhere...and Minerva was quite certain to bring the matter up in the staffroom later tonight.

XXXXXX

Severus Snape had been scowling ferociously for over an hour, his head was pounding, crucio was beginning to seem like a pleasant dream and he was almost willing to hand Potter over to these vultures just to get them off his back.

"They are already set for writing three feet of essay on the stupidity of their actions as soon as Mr Potter is released from the hospital wing. They have a week's worth of personal detentions with me." Snape dug his fingers into his left temple and wished that headache potions worked on stress headaches. "You've deducted a hundred and fifty points from Slytherin for their...injudicious actions. You've also given two hundred points to Gryffindor to commend Mr Weasley's bravery and honorable intentions in defending fellow students from peril whom he doesn't even like. The fact that both Slytherin versions of events disagree with Mr Weasley's account...both of them pensieved memories which have been verified as having been untampered, apparently has no bearing on the case. What else do you want to do? Expel them both? Azkaban? They are two boys who unfortunately were forced into a situation which endangered them and they responded with good sense and speed to avoid damage and preserve their lives." Snape suddenly got to his feet, he couldn't be bothered any more. Let them call him prejudiced and biassed, it was nothing new and at least it would stop his headache now. "I'll be in my Office...otherwise I will thank you to rebalance the points to a rational level and acknowledge that detention for a week is more than enough to make sure they do not meddle next time a troll even considers entering the castle." Snape stalked off and was relieved when he finally got to slam his dungeon door behind himself.

"The Headmaster informs me that my son is in isolation in the Hospital Wing and I may not see him." Lucius Malfoy was sitting in a self-conjured armchair reading a magazine.

"Your information is slightly inaccurate." Snape dropped into his chair and pulled a couple of Hufflepuff Essays forward for marking, they tended to be soothingly mediocre. "Mr Potter is the injured party in isolation, Mr Malfoy simply refused to leave and so has been shut in as well since the isolation wards had to be cast."

"What happened to Mr Potter?"

"A couple of fractured vertabrae after he crashed into a wall while dodging a troll." Snape managed to make his tone dry and was amused to see Malfoy's amusement at his recounting the incident as if it were rather common. "The isolation is safeguard only, as is the nerve regenerator. He does require the skelegrow though and will be out of action for a couple of days."

"Please explain to me how a troll got into the school."

"Quirrel let it in as a distraction so he could attempt a fiendish act without the Headmaster realising."

"This fiendish act would of course have something to do with why the Staff is so paranoid it has no rationality this year."

"Something." Snape gave a shrug and then yawned. "Tea?"

"Thanks." Lucius accepted a steaming mug and gave a sniff. "I visit Azkaban tomorrow...though no one else knows."

"You have my pity." Snape sipped his tea and then sighed. "Black can at least get the boy out of this school...but I will miss his presence in class."

"Why?"

"He has a rare talent for stopping Longbottom's cauldrons from melting or exploding." Snape sighed and then frowned. "He also has an uncanny knack of understanding stuff he shouldn't."

"Howso?"

"Come see." Snape was on his feet and headed for his laboratory, headaches and fatigue forgotten in his excitement over what had been achieved earlier.

"It's a cauldron." Lucius' tone was very damping.

"Funny." Snape fished a bayleaf out of the cauldron, hastily cast some heavy wards before retreating to a discreet distance.

"What..." Lucius got no further before Snape grabbed his arm and dragged him aside. The explosion which rocked the room was rather impressive. "...was that?" Lucius blinked as he saw the cauldron reconstruct itself and begin bubbling again.

"That was some stupid witch's idea of a cough syrup...apparently."

"Does it have the same effect on anyone who consumes it?" Lucius was blinking rapidly.

"Apparently yes, a five year-old has been spreading blood and gore far and wide around St Mungoes for the past month."

"Intriguing." Lucius took a half-step forward before Snape yanked him back as the cauldron exploded again.

"We successfully stopped the explosions, we have not yet managed to denaturise the cauldron." Snape shot across the room to put the bayleaf back in the cauldron along with a container full of pre-prepared ingredients. For a moment the cauldron bubbled ominously, then it gave a thick gulp and became passive.

"What, precisely, have you done to it?"

"At present?" Snape gave a small shrug "Given it the characteristics of hardened tar. In this state it will take approximately a thousand years to reach explosion point again."

"The explosion point?"

"It's a self-stirring cauldron and the charm is interfering with the contents...somehow." Snape gave another shrug. "Potter produced the initial idea, I tried it and it worked so the boy will be serving detention with Sinistra for the next week...and he'll learn how to prove an arithmantic supposition. When they've proven this level we'll be back to work with the cauldron itself, taking advantage of the thousand years until the next explosion to try picking the thing to pieces and denaturising it." Snape returned to his office. "The downside we have discovered is that the explosions are more frequent and more forceful if you do let it resume exploding after slowing it down. We're uncertain as to why at present."

"Out of curiousity..."

"Yes, Lucius, the little girl has stopped exploding. We fed her the slowdown potion which meant that she successfully passed the potion out of her system...she doesn't explode and spread blood and gore any more and yes, her idiotic mother was insanely and obscenely thankful and I left her to Sinistra to deal with."

"What was the cost this time?"

"Two crates of Firewhisky...apparently what she required to repair her nerves after the ordeal."

"Ah." Lucius Malfoy smiled quietly. Most people thought that Snape and Sinistra were friends in a Slytherin-ish fashion. Lucius Malfoy knew far better. Snape and Sinistra were rivals who'd fought for almost twenty years to prove the other wrong on any and every subject. Their actions ranged between polite academic debating, with all the required polite little barbs and underhand insults which were obligatory, to outright betrayal...such as had undoubtedly occured today as Lucius was quite certain that Snape had bailed out on Sinistra with regards to the patient and attached parent. Fair was fair though, Sinistra bailed quite regularly on Severus and when it happened he had his demanded price...and it was the best kept secret of Slytherin because no one knew what the price was. Infact, to Lucius Malfoy's knowledge, it was the only secret of Slytherin that was left which did not involve it's snarky founder and his penchant for chatting to snakes.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 9:

Headmaster Dumbledore prowled his office restlessly. Anger bubbled gently just out of reach of his mental fingers and he did not know why. Fawkes had vanished to heavens only knew where the previous night, he'd broken his favourite tea cup and the damage was apparently resistant to reparo charms, and now he was plagued by a sense of anger he did not understand. Something ground underfoot and Dumbledore almost swore when he realised that he'd just ground a couple of lemondrops into his rather priceless carpet...that was going to be hard to clean up if there was still the same problem.

"Bee in your bonnet, Headmaster?" The Sorting Hat stirred on its shelf, disrupting a little bit of dust which spilled through a finger of sunlight which was playing across the spines of some ancient books. "Perhaps a wasp under your wig?"

"Sorting Hat, are you trying to be helpful?"

"Depends on the definition of helpful...but for what it's worth I can reassure you that the anger you feel is not your own."

"What..." Dumbledore abruptly did swear as he leapt across to his desk and a large leather bound volume which always sat there. It took him a matter of seconds to find the page which kept track of the House points...and all four houses were rapidly approaching zero. The detentions page was alarming in the extreme. It seemed that all four houses were brawling between and even in classes. Was the school going insane?

"School-wide, this little anger problem isn't it?" The Hat wasn't really asking and Dumbledore wasn't about to answer as he touched his wand to his throat.

"ALL STUDENTS ARE TO RETURN TO THEIR DORMITORIES! ALL PREFECTS ARE TO TAKE A ROLE CALL AND REPORT TO THEIR HEAD OF HOUSE. THE HEADS OF HOUSE ARE TO REPORT TO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE WHEN THEY HAVE VERIFIED ALL STUDENTS ARE IN THEIR DORMITORIES. REMAINING STAFF ARE TO GO TO THEIR OWN ROOMS AND ACTIVATE THEIR ACCOUNTABILITY WARD."

"Prompt and will satisfactorily remove two of the five reasons the students have been fighting." The Hat shuffled again. "But what of young Malfoy and Potter, they're both still in isolation."

"Pomfrey?" Dumbledore had his head in the floo a second later.

"Headmaster?" Pompfrey's expression was serene as she knelt beside the fire.

"Mr Malfoy and Potter?"

"Still in isolation for another three hours, I've just notified Severus where they are."

"Thankyou, Poppy, we should have more information for you soon." Dumbledore withdrew his head from the fire and listened to the noise down below.

It was forty minutes later when Severus Snape finally reached the Headmaster's office and he was a seriously unhappy man. Hogwarts was clearly furious about something, for the students were behaving as if they were sleep-deprived and high on sugar. The staff were minimally better and Snape's only bit of peace was the fact that Malfoy and Potter were both behind isolation wards that he himself had cast. No one, not even Pompfrey could reach those two boys without his specific permission...and he hadn't given it.

"Finally." McGongall huffed her displeasure as Snape swept into the office. "What is the emergency, Albus?"

"My Ravenclaws seem to think it's a Death Eater attack." Flitwick was resting on a nearby stool and bouncing restlessly.

"For a Death Eater attack to occur there is first a requirement for a Dark Lord...we're a little short of Dark Lord's at the present moment."

"But..."

"An eleven year-old?" Snape's brows rose in disbelief. "I knew the students were that stupid...obviously I was wrong in thinking that the staff were any wiser. I can promise you there is currently no Dark Lord in any condition to take charge of the Death Eaters."

"But..."

"Tell me, Flitwick, would you associate with the beings who murdered your parents in front of you and condemned you to living hell in the Muggle World?"

"The Muggle world is not living hell." McGonagall snorted in disgust. "Honestly, your prejudice is beyond belief."

"My prejudice is non-existant, I grew up in the muggle world." Snape sneered back. "The Muggle world is little different from the wizarding world...unless you happen to be forcibly inflicted upon a couple of magic-phobic muggles."

"Umm." Sprout was frowning.

"How does the majority of our world view squibs?"

"Not too well."

"Reverse the mentality and you've got living hell in the muggle world." Snape sank back with a soft growl. "Not even magic can protect you from hate while you're a minor."

"There has been no attack at all." It was the Sorting Hat who interrupted what was promising to be a first class row. "The Headmaster is simply taking action to minimise the effects of the Castle's current mood."

"The Castle's current mood?" McGonagall lifted an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that this entire day has been because Hogwarts is throwing a temper tantrum?"

"Hogwarts is a little annoyed at present." Snape spoke quietly from his shadowed corner. "I, quite frankly, don't blame her at all since the Staff's behaviour, as a whole, has been abysmal this year."

"You..." McGonagall stopped with a glare.

"Hat." Snape turned to face the artifact. "Mr Potter was only injured by the troll because his attention was distracted by Mr Weasley...correct?"

"Correct."

"The collapsed hallway?"

"Mr Malfoy had control of the Troll's Club, but lost it when Mr Weasley attacked Mr Potter."

"Am I correct in assuming that it was that particular incident which has upset Hogwarts?"

"You are." The Hat was sounding tired. "I wouldn't bother though, Potion's Master, you'll never persuade them that they are in error."

"Hat." It was Sprout who spoke up. "Could you please explain?"

"Hogwarts takes care of all children and protects them to the best of her ability. She relies somewhat heavily on the staff to help her with that endeavour. It is unfortunate that this year the staff has failed her. For now, a little patience until Hogwarts recovers her equanimity."

"Hogwarts is blaming us because a damn-fool Slytherin decided to fight a Mountain Troll and lost?"

"No, Head of House Gryffindor. Hogwarts is angry because one of her charges has been grievously injured through the negligence of the staff she trusts. That troll did not enter this school of its own accord, it was brought in by a member of staff. Mr Potter did not leave his House group willingly...and not even the Headmaster bothered to ask Hogwarts what had happened before believing the story of one student for no other reason than because of which House he had been sorted into. Mr Potter was abducted. Mr Malfoy was loose only to retrieve his friend...if possible. Mr Weasley was loose because he thought it would be...wicked, to see a Mountain Troll. Hogwarts is not happy that the staff she trusts condones the torment of a first year for no other reason than because he wasn't sorted into the house they thought he should be." The Hat fell silent for a moment. "Go deal with your Houses, Hogwarts just needs a little time."

"Severus." Dumbledore spoke quietly into the scuffle of departing staff and Snape subsided back into his seat with a tired sigh.

"Headmaster."

"Has Mr Potter told you that his existence is...living hell?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Snape snorted in disgust.

"Then how...?"

"I know Petunia Evans." Snape shifted. "Permission to depart?"

"Very well." Dumbledore sighed tiredly as he endeavoured to separate the castle's anger from his own emotions. Would Petunia Evans Dursley really hold a grudge through generations? Severus had to be wrong. If Petunia Dursley disliked her nephew, then Harry must have done something to earn it.

XXXXXX

Lucius Malfoy was scowling thoughtfully as he followed the Auror up the gravelled path. This day had started early supposedly over the question of who was guardian of the Black Estates given that the Head of the House was currently a resident of Azkaban. It had quickly proven, as Lucius had known well in advance, that Sirius Black was not only the Head of House Black, he was infact the only person who stood between that family and non-existance. Much like House Potter, the reign of Voldemort had wreaked havoc on the longevity of the house. Six hours of negotiating and arguing had finally produced the information that Black could not even assign a guardian to those aspects of the Black Estate which had not been seized in his arrest. Four more hours and Lucius Malfoy had official permission to torture Black for information. Now he followed an Auror, who clearly disliked him, up a gravel path to the most forbidding and escape proof prison in the world. He had no illusions, that Auror would consider himself in heaven if he'd been delivering Malfoy to a cell.

"Thankyou." Lucius twitched a smile at the Auror as he stepped into the guard house, where he would have his wand tagged and be notified of where he was to go for his interrogation.

"B17." Dull words and Lucius actually winced for he knew of that room. It was the most heavily warded room which was not actually a cell.

"Thankyou." Lucius twitched his smile again before following a guard down the dank corridors. Room B17 was a ghastly hole and it was with some skepticism that he took the seat on his side of the ward which split the room 1/4 to 3/4. Now all he had to do was wait until Black arrived...and then hopefully he could verify the Minister had not been lying about Black's sanity.

"Malfoy?" Black's hoarse whisper was one of incredulous disbelief as he sank onto the floor on his side of the ward..

"Black." Lucius carefully laid his wand in the appropriate slot before he calmly watched the guard depart. "Sane, I see."

"Depressingly so." Black scowled and slumped slightly. "What do you want?"

"Officially, I require your signature on some papers regarding one of the properties Narcissa brought to the alter." Lucius slid the page through the ward which separated them.

"Emory Farm...oh." Black gave a sudden snort and signed the page with a flourish of a gashed finger and a bloody fingerprint before pushing it back. "I presume you actually did that years ago and needed an excuse for your unofficial reason for a visit."

"Correct." Lucius' mouth twitched into a genuine grin for half a second. "No one would argue against my reasoning for the move if I'd been caught out...and now it's legal so there's no worry." Lucius pocketed the page again.

"Unofficial reason for a visit?"

"Potter."

"What about the boy?" Black straightened up and Lucius couldn't prevent the rise of his brows at the speakingness of that move.

"He's been sorted into Slytherin."

"Oh lord!" Black slumped back in his seat. "Please tell me he's not one of the minority."

"The boy is not evil, if that is your concern." Lucius' mouth tightened. "A Slytherin to the bone and considered the next Dark Lord for no other reason."

"What?"

"Apparently Dumbledore's expression was that of stunned horror when the boy was sorted. They are running scared of him and the student body is responding in kind."

"Bloody Dumbledore." Sirius rubbed his face wearily. "Can you help the boy?"

"Even if I could, I won't." Lucius scowled. "I think my lawyer could spring you though."

"Get out." Black's expression was disbelieving.

"You were never convicted...infact you were never even given a trial and it has been ten years. No evidence was admitted at the time of your incarceration and any evidence is now inadmissable so they won't be able to convict you. Fudge won't dare not release you."

"I won't join the Dark Lord if he successfully returns, Lucius."

"I wouldn't expect it of you." Malfoy snorted. "I'm doing this because Draco asked me to do something about Potter's home life...please do not descend to Gryffindor idiocies now that I've almost managed to decide that you actually have some brains."

"Why me?"

"You are the boy's godfather and that gives you a legal and magical precedence over any legal, or magical, guardian who has been appointed since. In the tongue of Gryffindor, this means your right to custody is uncontestable. I can get you out, which removes this whole venture from the fanciful and wishful thinking. The last, and most critical point, is the fact that you can live with the fallout of this whole mess and still keep your head...sort of." Lucius' expression was grim. "Do not agree without fully understanding the price of this little negotiation, Black. You will be considered worse than a Death Eater who plead Imperius. You will be the mass murderer who escaped punishment because of a rich brother-in-law. You will hold custody of a boy who is considered to be the next Dark Lord...and you'll have gained that custody by the old laws of blood and bondage. Understand me Black, this is not a joke and the price will be very high for all of us."

"Who is the boy with currently?"

"Apparently some Muggle relatives...and there are a couple of reports which were magically lost while he attended Muggle Primary School. I don't think the abuse was serious, but they certainly dislike the boy and fear his magic."

"Petunia." Sirius swore under his breath and then sighed tiredly. "Get me out of here, even living with me would be better than those muggles."

"I firmly agree." Lucius rose to his feet, spoke a couple words of standard truth and then departed, he was going to have to move fast, if he moved at all, the sanity of Black might go at any moment...and the life of Potter was even more perilously in jeopardy.

XXXXXX

Minerva McGonagal was confused and uncertain. Everything was wrong this year. Potter was meant to be a Gryffindor, Granger should have ended up in Ravenclaw...and by no stretch of the imagination could she figure out why the first year Slytherins were displaying all the traits of Hufflepuff. The year travelled in a clump. The year sat in a clump. The year studied in a clump and never spoke to anyone outside of their clump. This simply was not the behaviour of Slytherin first years. The only thing which made any sense at all was that this was the effect of a Potter in Slytherin. The worst of all was that the Sorting Hat and Hogwarts were condoning the entire situation. Why has the world so insane? What had they done to deserve it?

"Minerva?" Sinistra had opened her door in surprise in response to the knock, but her surprise was nothing to Minerva McGonagal's when she realised that she had walked clean across the school and knocked without having noticed a thing...even the fact that she was knocking on a door.

"Oh." McGonagal blinked and then shook her head. "You have a moment?"

"Certainly." Sinistra twisted to look into the room. "Potter! Tell Snape he needs to cover the rest of your detention."

"Yes, Professor." There was a shuffle of paper and the boy slipped silently out of Sinistra's office, vanishing down the corridor in a manner which was vaguely unsettling.

"You had Potter for detention?" McGonagal stepped into the office with its leather bound volumes and sank into the available seat.

"Severus has his own detentions to oversee on many nights, Potter's here two or three nights of the week." Sinistra dropped into her usual chair and produced a cup of tea which she drifted over to McGonagal. "He's a quiet one and very reliable. Infinitely prefer having him here than young Malfoy."

"What is it with that group?" McGonagal found herself talking and decided that she actually wanted the answers sufficiently badly to risk the Arithmancy Professor's sarcasm.

"Which group?" Sinistra was blinking in bewilderment.

"Potter, Malfoy...the first year Slytherins."

"Your question says it all." Sinistra smiled almost sadly. "Those two boys are the most charismatic and courageous Slytherins that this school has seen in many decades. Those two boys, without even trying or wanting to, are going to revolutionise the reputation of Slytherin. They were fighting, but they've been forced into an alliance by the staff and student of this school. Now they've brought the rest of their year into line and that effect is only going to expand."

"Do you think...do you think he's evil?"

"Evil?" Sinistra snorted. "He's an eleven year-old boy, be reasonable."

"But..."

"Yes, the boy seems to have some freaky side-talent which makes him absorb magic...but really, there's got to be something a bit odd about him, he survived the Killing Curse at fifteen months. Otherwise...he's a bit of a bookworm, got a promising talent for potions and a talent and a half for theoretical charms...Severus is of the view that when the magic absorbancy thing is sorted out he'll also have a talent for practical charms. Layoff the boy, Minerva, or you will force both of them to go where none of us want them to go."

"Fine." McGonagal's mouth pursed. "I'll try to get the others to lay off him...if for no other reason than I'm tired with the fights in the staff room."

"Thankyou...but in truth I honestly think that no one ever should have had to ask you to be reasonable." Sinistra finished her tea and then sighed. "What are you going to do about stopping your upper years from picking on the boys?"

"What is it with you Slytherins and blaming the upper years for everything."

"Minerva I have not blamed your upper years of anything except for beating up the first-year Slytherins...and I do that because they are beating up the first year Slytherins. They seem to think that Malfoy and Potter need to learn their 'place' in the school...and courtesy of the Staff at this school they seem to have decided their 'place' is slightly below Filch and the House Elves...and you can bet that Lucius Malfoy will not stand for this situation much longer without bringing his political power to bear on this school...and I REALLY do not want to see what happens when Lucius Malfoy brings his full political power to bear on this school."

"Why hasn't anyone said anything?"

"Minerva, we've done nothing but scream this information at you nearly every night of this year...for whatever reason you decided to listen tonight."

"Oh." McGonagal rose to her feet with a thoughtful expression. "If you don't mind I probably should get back to my office and talk to some of the Gryffindors."

"Thankyou." Sinistra smiled before she closed the door behind Minerva and threw a handful of floo powder into her fire. "Severus Snape!"

XXXXXX

The office of Cornelius Fudge was opulent and decorated with the most execrable taste. Lucius Malfoy considered that room alone sufficient punishment for any act he committed in this life and the next. The Minister was minimally better as he stuttered and stumbled around his uncertainties.

"You imprisoned the head of my wife's family without even putting him to trial?" Lucius scowled even more darkly, pondering if the Minister would ever realise that the man in question was Sirius Black.

"The facts were irrefutable." Fudge stumbled and almost sobbed. Lucius was delighted that his skill for intimidation was as good as ever.

"The facts have nothing to do with anything, Fudge." Lucius gave a small sniff of disgust. "No trial means no conviction. No conviction means that his assets have not and cannot be frozen...hence my recent discovery of why family tax was still being extracted from my wife's properties. No conviction means he can counter sue...or to be more precise he can order me to counter sue. Ten years means the ministry has no admissable evidence and you will have to release him."

"Ten years?" It was almost a scream and Lucius sneered to see the man finally realise who they were talking about. "No!"

"Minister."

"I won't have it. The scandal would be dreadful."

"He is the Head of the Black Family." Lucius spoke softly.

"It doesn't matter, you're the only person who knows this and I know you won..."

"Minister." Lucius abruptly stood up. "As a connection of the Black Family I, like many others, am under an Unbreakable Vow to support the Black Family. Unfortunately I now know that Black can be released, and supporting that family also means ensuring it doesn't die out...which is guaranteed if Black is not released soon." Lucius did enjoy snarling at terrified fools, their terror was almost tangible. "I will not sacrifice my life so you can hide from a stupid mistake you made a decade ago." Lucius stepped back and gentled his tone. "I'm doing all I can so you can hush it up, but I can't let you continue to incarcerate him because it will cost me my life to do so...it will also cost my son his life since I mentioned the matter to him without even realising the import of the matter. I've already spent days trying to deal with this situation." Lucius rubbed his forehead and mentally refrained from noting that the days had been spent briefing his solicitors and preparing the case. "Say he's released on good behaviour, having successfully been cleared of mental disturbance by St Mungos. Muggles apparently do it all the time."

"But it's Sirius Black!"

"So what?" Lucius made a wearied noise. "You stuffed up, you got found out and it's fairly safe to say that he will never do anything except sit around where ever he decides to live and curses the world. His name alone guarantees that he'll never do anything."

"But..."

"And while I think of it, there had better not be any 'accidents' before he departs from the Ministry as a free man...if you cause the death of myself and my son I can promise you that you will discover Narcissa to be more than capable to avenge us...and she'll have the Black Estate as well as the Malfoy Estate at her disposal." Lucius Malfoy was silent for a moment. "All things considered I think she'd actually have more assets at her disposal that the Ministry, even if you could engage in unrestricted asset disposal to protect yourself...and as a member of the Wizengamot, I feel quite confident that Narcissa will make quite sure that you do not get unlimitted asset disposal permission."

"That's...that's..." Fudge was spluttering.

When Lucius Malfoy managed to finish the paperwork and get out of the Ministry of Magic three hours later Minister Fudge was still spluttering unintelligibly. When Lucius Malfoy finished with his lawyers two days later he was quietly confident that Minister Fudge was still spluttering unintelligibly. When Lucius Malfoy had verified with Madam Bones that all was proceeding as was appropriate in the reopening of the Black case he detoured via the Minister's Office both ways and was satisfied that his presence brought Fudge back to a good boil of unintelligible spluttering...the man had looked like he might recover.

Lucius Malfoy sank wearily onto the edge of the bed, his hand reaching automatically to find one of Narcissa's plaits. She looked like a young girl when she slept. Such innocence was hard to find in the current corrupt world. Lucius wound the plait around his fingers and hoped that he would have no cause to regret the past couple of days in the future. He pitched over onto his pillow with a soft groan, he just wanted to sleep.

"Lucius."

"Mm." Lucius cracked an eye open and blinked blearily as he tried to think of a satisfactory excuse to explain why he was trying to sleep on top of the covers and still fully attired, even including his boots.

"Up." Narcissa slipped easily from the bed and pulled Lucius onto his feet.

"But..."

"Shower." Narcissa pushed him into the bathroom and quickly spelled the lights on and the water to run.

"But..."

"You stink, dear husband, of Azkeban."

"Oh." Lucius considered the matter for a moment and then scowled. "I have bathed three times since I left Azkeban and changed my clothes completely on all three occasions. I can promise I do not stink of Azkeban."

"Shall I get a House Elf to bathe you?" Narcissa's expression was nothing short of angelic and it caused Lucius to mutter under his breath before he quickly stripped and ducked into the recess which contained the shower. He'd never admit it, but when Lucius emerged from the shower almost an hour later he was thankful for his wife's insistence. It did make a difference. Admittedly he was going to have to bathe again before he left his rooms, and he'd definitely check what he grabbed before he used it, but for now sleep was far more demanding of his attention than the fact that his hair smelt of orchard blossom. If nothing else, Narcissa had earned a laugh at his expense for he'd been an utter bear for the last couple of weeks working on this mess concerning Potter.

XXXXXX

A/N: Thankyou very much to the kindly soul who notified me that I never went back to correct the filler names I used when I forgot who Bulstrode and Davis were...and if anyone was curious, those two names were two Polish Mathematicians from between the wars. I have now corrected that post, so if you want, go back and read it :) 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 10:

Deralc was perplexed. First-year Slytherins had very common behavioural patterns. First-year Slytherins did not hole up around a couple of tables in a discreet corner with books up to their ears. First-year Slytherins did not trade hexes and jinxes while studying. Most of all first-year Slytherins did not keep a running tally which somehow ranked said hexes and jinxes. Infact the only thing which was even vaguely normal was the fact that most of the hexes and jinxes were causing not insignificant amounts of pain among the involved parties. It had been going on for a month now...though mercifully had only led to three trips to the infirmary, and one utterly horrific trip to Snape's Office. Deralc was not about to forget that incident any time soon. Snape had been nearly certifiable when he found out that his first-years had hospitalised one of thier own number...infact Deralc rather suspected that the only reason there were any first-years left was because the group had been mortified, guilt-ridden and practically impersonated House Elves in their eagerness to pay for the accident. It had made Deralc realise that Snape actually hated giving punishment to anyone who was genuinely contrite.

"Try it now." Draco spun a thin volume over to Zabini, who was working on Herbology with Parkinson.

"Nope." Zabini spun the book back without looking up. Malfoy caught it deftly, removed whatever he'd put on the volume and cast again.

"Now?" The volume spun across the table top, was caught and returned with a flat negative. That the two firsties were up to something was obvious. The question was what, and how to approach finding out without causing trouble. Deralc watched them in silence as the book exchanged hands and was charmed and recharmed again and again and again.

"YE-EA-OWCH!!" Zabini's chair had flipped over backwards as he lay on the floor nursing his hand. The boy's hair was cycling through every colour Deralc had ever heard of, and a couple he wasn't too certain about as it grew and shrank in random patches of his head. The thin volume rested on the tabletop in complete innocence and Malfoy's expression was one of gobsmacked astonishment.

"That..."

"That bloody hurt you..." Zabini managed to semi-situp as he spoke before abruptly swallowing whatever he'd been about to say. Deralc couldn't figure out how he'd got across to the table so quickly, but he figured that he must have jumped and run...but it couldn't possibly be his presence which had silenced the boy and Deralc twisted his head hastily in search of the real reason. Snape was frowning darkly with his arms folded immediately next to Deralc's right shoulder, and it was all Deralc could do not to jump out of his skin.

"Mr Malfoy." The two words were soft, but everyone who heard them froze in their seats.

"Professor?" Malfoy scrambled to his feet, his face almost as white as his hair.

"What are you engaged in?"

"Christmas presents, sir." Malfoy gulped rather convulsively then glanced around the room before stiffening his spine. "The Gryffindors have a particular liking for stealing Potter's books and stuff." Malfoy picked up the thin volume and slid it into his pocket with no ill effects. "Zabini and I figured if we could charm his books so they could only be touched by Potter..."

"Deralc." Snape shifted slightly before casting a quick spell.

"Sir?"

"Take the book."

"Yes, sir." Deralc took a carefully breath before responding and then held his hand out to Malfoy. Malfoy gulped, pulled the book from his pocket and grimaced appologetically before he dropped it itnto Deralc's hand. Pain exploded up his arm and Deralc would later fully comprehend what was going on, but right now he was in far too much of a dither of pain to care about anything, let alone the expressions of a first-year.

"Interesting." Snape waved Malfoy to grab the book back while he studied the readouts that only he could see.

"Sir?" Malfoy had the book back in his pocket.

"Flint." Snape turned as he called for the quidditch captain to come over. Parkinson stepped over to help Malfoy pull Deralc up into an approximately sitting position against the nearest wall.

"Sir?" Flint seemed confused.

"Malfoy, put it on the table." Snape cast his spell a second time as Malfoy dropped the volume onto the table top.

"Sir?" Flint seemed as perplexed as ever.

"Levitate the book." Snape was almost squinting at whatever his wand was telling him.

"Yes, sir." Flint cast, screamed and collapsed as all had done before him. Malfoy grabbed the volume as it flopped to the floor and shoved it in his pocket before helping Pansy move the Quidditch Captain.

"Interesting." Snape finally pocketed his wand. "Malfoy, you and Zabini in my office tonight after supper with all of your research notes. Tell Deralc when he fully recovers that I am giving both him and Flint twenty points apiece for sacrifice in the name of intellectual curiousity. Five points to Miss Parkinson for common sense...and I'll deal with the pair of you later."

"Yes, sir." it was an inaudible whisper from Malfoy.

"Relax Mr Malfoy, I'm not in the habit of punishing anything which has the objective of helping Slytherin...I just want to know what you've been doing before I give points out...I also think I can help you tweak it a little."

"Sir?"

"At present the book can be decharmed by anyone who thinks of it." Snape's expression was vicious. "Mr Potter's books...and your own are going to be charmed and warded so tightly that even Flitwick and Dumbledore will need months to get inside...and hopefully quite a few trips to the hospital wing."

"Yes, sir." Malfoy seemed almost relieved and he didn't sit down again until Snape had swept from the Common Room.

"Damn." Deralc was exercising the hand which had made contact with the book rather gingerly. Flint's expression was calculating, though he also seemed rather concerned for his wand, which seemed to be smoking slightly.

"Professor Snape said you both earned twenty points each." Malfoy hesitated for a moment. "It was for sacrifice in the name of intellectual curiousity."

"Nice to know that we suffered for a reason." Deralc gently shook his head and then yawned. "When you see Professor Snape tonight, let him know that I'd like to help...and if I can't help I want to watch and learn."

"I will." Malfoy was already scrabbling quietly through the books on the table. Zabini was checking the titles which sat on the table and checking them against a grubby sheet of parchment which he'd grabbed from Malfoy's side of the table.

"Going to have to make a library run before supper." Zabini had stacked five books on one end of the table just before Malfoy cast a ward over them and stood up.

"Let's go." Malfoy was halfway to the door before he'd even finished speaking. Deralc couldn't help but smile as he watched the two boys race away, no matter what happened in the future, House Slytherin was going to change

XXXXXX

Lucius Malfoy stalked the halls of the Ministry with a face like thunder and a mind to match. Fudge was going to think claiming personal responsibility for Black's crimes to be a boon after Malfoy was finished today. It was rare for Malfoy to be anything except calm, cool and collected under all circumstances. Today was different though, and Unbreakable Vow or not, Lucius Malfoy wanted Black out of Azkaban right now or heads were going to start rolling.

"Mr Malfoy."

"Get Fudge available now!" Malfoy didn't even break stride as he snapped at the aide who'd taken half a step as if he actually considered stopping Malfoy from reaching the minister.

"But..."

"Now!" Malfoy finally turned to look at the idiotic fool.

"But..." The fool seemed unable to move.

"What?"

"He's in a private session with the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"He can be in a private session with the Head of Gringotts and Slytherin himself for all I care. GET HIM AVAILABLE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!!!" Lucius was almost satisfied with the effect his words had on the aide.

"L-l-lucius." It took less than two minutes for the pallid aide to extract his boss from the private session with Dumbledore. "M-mapes-s said you wished to see me?"

"Get Black released by tonight's boat...and I don't care what law you personally have to break to achieve this act."

"B-but...I can't just release him." Fudge's tone was more of a wail than anything else.

"Why not?" Lucius glared at the quivering man while he ominously fingered his wand, ohh what he wouldn't love to do this moment. "You've held him against the law for a decade now. You've held him for three months since you've acknowledged that fact. GET BLACK BACK IN LONDON TONIGHT!"

"Why do you want Sirius Black released?" Albus Dumbledore's mild tones brought Lucius' temper to the edge of murdererous..

"Right now?" Lucius snorted. "No idea...but I think it has to do with the fact that until such time as the Head of House Black can assign an appropriate guardian the current heir of House Black and his twin brother are residing in my house."

"Surely a few more weeks while due process followed..."

"Muggle-raised brats, Dumbledore." Lucius sneered, almost of the view that Azkaban would be worth the pleasure of wringing the doddery mass of senility's neck at this very moment.

"Really, Lucius, surely even..."

"Muggle-raised brats who happen to have a collective soul and a rather bad drug addiction." Lucius turned back to Fudge. "Black can go back to Azkaban until such time as your paperwork is finished later, but right now I wish Black to be available to deal with this mess."

"Surely you..."

"Dumbledore, Black is specifically listed as the Magical guardian of these two boys. Black is also the boys' muggle guardian. I don't care what his mental condition is since muggles have no way of knowing whether someone is...coerced or not. I require Black to assign a new muggle guardian until such time as he is able to officially assume responsibility for the two boys."

"Really..."

"DOBBY!" Malfoy's irate roar brought a tatty looking House-elf who was apparently acting for the four elves otherwise occupied with controlling the two dark-haired boys who blathered at each other in half-words which weren't even english to start with. There was no question but that these two boys were mentally a mess and probably needed a trip to St. Mungo's more than anything. "Since the Headmaster apparently views this problem as minimal he is welcome to deal with it himself until such time as Black can take control of the situation. Good day, Minister." Malfoy stalked off, quite confident that only use of an unforgiveable would prevent the Headmaster from 'encouraging' Fudge to oblige in a temporary release of Black until such time as the boys were appropriately dealt with.

XXXXXX

Snape had an intimidating pile of books threatening the longevity of his desk, there were another fourteen on the only other available chair and he was still pulling more from his shelves. Snape had something he specifically wanted to find, and so far he hadn't found it...and he had no intention of stopping looking until he had found it. Sleep was not particularly important, Gryffindor was the only house which suffered when he was sleep deprived and of late Snape found even less compassion and understanding for Gryffindors in his soul than usual. His mind took an abstract satisfaction from the horror Minerva would undoubtedly express if she ever realised that his actions against her lions were tempered by a judicious element of compassion for the naivete and innocence of all youth.

"Severus?" It was Sinistra who carefully let herself into the room.

"Is something up?" Snape pulled another book off the shelf and flipped through it rapidly.

"Not here." Sinistra took a seat before glancing rather incuriously at the mountainous piles of books. One got used to piled books in the presence of Severus Snape, just as one soon learnt that just because Severus Snape had his nose in a book did not mean he was ignoring you.

"Oh?" Snape half glanced up for half a moment.

"Malfoy apparently stormed the Ministry after the Black Heirs, who are completely insane due to Muggle mismanagement of a collective soul, were dumped on his doorstep due to the death of their muggle mother."

"Oh." Snape slowly lowered the book he was looking through and squinted thoughtfully. "Where are these boys now?"

"Albus has them in his office...and he's got them under a petrificus hex so they don't trash his office."

"Ahh." Snape laid his book aside and headed out the door. Sinistra snorted in private amusement before she followed the man out of his office and closed and warded the door behind herself and hastening to catch up to the now deeply distracted Snape.

"Sir." Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were looking most uncharacteristically rumpled in appearance, both had several books in hand and rather dusty features. Sinistra was particularly surprised to note that Snape neither scowled, nor snarled, at the two boys for either their appearance or their less than courteous appeal for his attention.

"Malfoy, Zabini?"

"The Castle ate Potter again."

"When?"

"A couple of minutes ago." Zabini was gently massaging his leg, it was a subtle move but Sinistra frowned at the realisation that Zabini was still troubled by an injury declared fully healed months ago. It made abrupt sense that Potter had been apparently avoiding his first friend outside of the Slytherin Commonroom. No one could call Potter either stupid or thoughtless, and between the 'punishment' of sitting with Malfoy and the fact that he was still regularly pursued by half the student body, it wasn't all that difficult for him to project the appearance of being estranged from Zabini to all non-Slytherins.

"Hogwarts! Can you return Mr Potter?" Snape looked up to the ceiling of the hallway in resignation. Hogwarts' response was a noise which Malfoy swore was the noise a burbing castle would make. The intent was clear, Hogwarts would not be returning Harry Potter any time soon.

"Sir?" Malfoy's puzzlement was not unsurprising, even Sinistra was surprised when Snape began walking again.

"You, Malfoy, have an urgent need to floo your father regarding Christmas and whether Zabini can visit."

"Yes, sir." Draco Malfoy was almost skipping in his silent glee at the prospect of being the active part on an attempt to gatecrash the Headmaster's Office. Sinistra watched as Zabini chased after the ill-assorted duo for a moment before she abruptly chased after them as well.

The Headmaster's Office was an objective lesson in why a collective soul and muggle medicine should never be mixed. The two boys had obviously achieved a not insignificant level of damage before the Headmaster had hexed them, even Fawkes seemed ruffled. The Headmaster seemed to be fighting with his own beard, which was very intent on weaving itself into the fabric of his ghastly robes. Various silver artefacts seemed bent and displaced. Several books lay on the floor with the odd page floating in a rather distrait manner. What was most disturbing was the fact that the mess was still present, and yet it had been almost ten minutes since Snape had heard that the Headmaster had hexed the two boys...which meant at least twenty minutes had past in which the Headmaster had apparently done absolutely noting about righting the chaos which was his office.

"HOGWARTS!" Harry Potter had suddenly appeared next to the ceiling and crashed heavily to the floor immediately next to Snape's left foot. "Wha..." Potter had stopped and no one blamed him for suddenly the air in the office changed and Snape was forced to accept that Dumbledore had seemingly done nothing for the simple reason that there was so much magic redolent in the air that it was too dangerous lest something even worse happen as a result of conflicting magic. Dumbledore acted immediately and within seconds his office had reverted to rights.

"Now." Dumbledore settled behind his desk and folded his hands. "Would someone be so kind as to explain?"

"Mr Malfoy requires permission to floo his father." Snape folded his arms. "Zabini is required to explain part of the problem and I, as their Head of House, am required to be present. Concerning Potter and Sinistra I cannot say."

"I was speaking to Severus when Mr Malfoy became aware of the problem." Sinistra gave a calm shrug as if this explained why she was in the Headmaster's office, and really, if you considered Sinistra honestly, it did infact explain everything.

"I was reading on my bed when Hogwarts apparently decided I had to come here." Potter was brushing himself down and then scowled at the ceiling, before turning to give a small, slightly appologetic bow to Snape. "I appologise for the inconvenience, but would request an escort back to Slytherin Commonroom."

"Mr Potter, it is perfectly safe for you to travel without escort." Dumbledore was frowning slightly.

"I wish I could believe you sir, but I am reluctant to risk a hospitalisation immediately before going home for christmas...my family require my full skills to be available and will be displeased if I cannot pull my weight." Harry spoke in a rather distant tone for his attention had clearly drifted to the two boys who were still in the chair where Dumbledore had put them. "Hullo."

"Ghak-seh." The word was somehow mashed between the two, it possibly wasn't one word, though the pacing was indicative of such.

"Oh." Harry blinked at the boys and then looked curiously at Dumbledore before he looked back. "I don't think so. He's the Headmaster."

"Uningchah!" It ended in a rather sick gurgle and Potter visibly fought a grin before he replied.

"Really?" Harry shot another curious look at Dumbledore before he gave a vigorous nod. "Please."

"Uning." It came with a grin and Dumbledore's office reverted to its original mess.

"That explains that." Snape's tone was rather dry and his face too expressionless to be real...he was also floating about a foot off the floor. "Mr Potter, would you kindly neutralise this situation?"

"I can, but it will simply happen again." Harry gave a small grimace before giving his wand a vague wave. The magic vanished from the air once more, but the room remained a mess.

"How come they can make a mess without anything but you need your wand to cancel the magic, Potter?" Malfoy's tone was disgusted. "You can't even revert the room to the condition they changed it from."

"I wasn't asked to tidy the room, Malfoy." Harry gave a snort. "I did as asked, which was to neutralise the magic."

"Mr Potter, the two boys are in your custody until such time as I personally relieve you of the responsibility...you may leave." Dumbledore was clearing going to wait until the trio left before he tidied his office again. "Any chaos and destruction you will serve detention for."

"Yes, sir." Potter had risen, beckoned to the two boys and then departed, closing the door carefully behind them.

"Headmaster, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you have those menaces petrified?" Snape was looking at the closed door with a rather perplexed expression.

"I have no doubt that in one of Mr Potter's neutralisations he also neutralised my own spell." Dumbledore was not particularly interested in the matter.

"Without neutralising any of the sticking charms on the portraits, the cushioning charms on your chairs or the twinkles you stick on your silver...things?" Snape's tone was dry. "Mr Malfoy, Zabini, dismissed. You can tell your father's that I ordered whatever orders I will give you tomorrow concerning your travel."

"Yes, sir." Draco grabbed Zabini by the arm and hustled the boy out of the room. They hit the corridor at a flat run and caught up with Potter just as he reached the commonroom portrait. "Dormitory, now." Draco was through the door in seconds and grabbing the girls and Nott from their tables before hustling up the stairs to the dormitory. Zabini, Potter and the two boys were alread sitting in a huddle near the window.

"What's the fuss about?" Pansy did not like anyone man-handling her under any circumstances.

"Those two just trashed Dumbledore's Office and we've got them for an unspecified length of time." Draco dropped heavily onto his own bed, then rolled over to look at the two boys. "Who are you and why does everyone apparently think you're insane?"

"We call ourselves Spike...but I'm Hades Black and he's Pluto." The elder of the two boys spoke with quiet confidence. "And it isn't a case of people thinking we are insane, we are insane." The last was given with a small smile.

"Then why are you currently making sense?" Zabini was frowning.

"Harry absorbs magic and the main cause of our insanity is magic. Provided we remain close to Mr Potter we are sane."

"O-okay." Malfoy frowned for a moment and then grimaced. "I'm Draco Malfoy, that's Blaise Zabini and next to him is Theodore Nott. The girls are Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, Millicent Bullstrode and Queenie Greengrass. We're the Slytherin First Years...minus Crabbe and Goyle who want the world but are disinclined to do the necessary work."

"I would have been a first year but for being sick at the beginning of term...oh, and the fact that we were somewhere in the Andes because our mother was trying to find a resolution for our insanity." Spike gave a smallish grimace. "Pluto would be coming next year...except for the fact that he also will be sick come the beginning of the year."

"What is the precise problem?"

"Magic shouts at us and as a result we can't think clearly enough to keep our minds separate."

"Mi..." Draco stopped himself as his eyes widened. "Collective soul?"

"Unstable collective soul." The smaller boy spoke, but it was in the voice of the first boy.

"Umm." Potter was blinking as his eyes flipped worriedly between the boys, the he extended a cautious hand and took a firm hold on something invisible.

"At least we were still speaking English." The real Pluto Black spoke, his voice distinct from that of his older brother.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"We've been to almost every country in the world and you learn languages fast if Magic shouts at you. When Potter's not here it all kind of gets scrambled up and though we're willing to swear we're speaking English and only one of us is speaking...for the rest of you we are simply babbling incoherencieswho switch back and forth at awkward intervals."

"Oh." Pansy Parkinson was blinking slowly as she studied the two boys, then she turned to look at Malfoy. "Draco, where are they from?"

"We're the Black Heirs...provided the magical world can find a way to assure our sanity...which does not require the constant presence of Mr Potter within one metre of our person."

"But..." Pansy stopped abruptly and her eyes widened.

"Precisely." Malfoy's expression was amused. "At this point they are still bastard born and unable to inherit fully...though any legitimate offspring they have will be full heirs. Sirius Black will need to do a Blood Inheritance Ritual if he wishes to ensure that the Black Family continues."

"There is a hope that the BIR will stabilise our situation." The two boys shrugged indifferently and the girls all shuddered. There was something so wrong about this casual discussion of potential sanity balanced on Blood Rituals.

XXXXXX

Sirius Black had decided that his cell was too small. Far too small. Four steps was all it took to travel from the dank corner where the privy hole kept its foul miasmas to the corner behind the door which dripped moisture. Four steps, and that was the greatest linear stretch of space available until he learnt to walk on air...which he hadn't managed in ten years and it wasn't for lack of trying. Any attempt to walk the perimeter of the room was completely useless, there wasn't enough space available when one considered the fact that the 'bed' occupied one entire wall and you had to step very carefully if you didn't wish to either end up in the privy, or the anonymous muck which covered most of the rest of the floor. In winter Sirius Black was in the habit of electing to step into the privy when he chose to rise from his slumbers...afterall the privy usually froze solid during the night and the floor never managed more than a thinnish layering of ice. Right now there was nothing that Sirus Black desired more than an open space of a few square metres so he could pace his mind into a peaceful state. His biggest problem was that he wasn't quite certain what was in the current situation for Lucius Malfoy. More was the fact that he had no means to even guess at what might be Malfoy's objective...after ten years he simply did not have the social and political knowledge available to consider. Against this major concern was balanced one simple question. Was Harry worth owing Malfoy? That was a comforting question since Sirius Black knew the answer without hesitation. Harry Potter might be the biggest pill born to mankind, but he was worth being in debt to Lucius Malfoy for. Sirius might even consider the Dark Lord if it meant that Harry came under his jurisdiction. Harry was even worth a decade in Azkaban. Sirius Black resumed pacing. The cell might be too small, but better he curse that than think his own thoughts and worries.

"BLACK, SIRIUS prisoner Sigma Kappa Three Niner Zero." The call echoed hollowly and Sirius promptly jumped to the dankest, most door distant corner he could find. This call never meant a good thing when you resided on level seven. A couple of months ago he couldn't have cared less, but right now he was potentially within a decade of freedom and he had no wish to die. Possibly he was less than a decade from freedom, you never could tell when a Malfoy decided to cut loose on bureaucratic red tape.

"Out!" The guard used a bit of magic to encourage compliance and promptitude. Black narrowed his eyes, but said nothing and fell into place within the formation of guards and dementors...there were two of them and they had a dreadful effect on his ability to walk. The trip out of Azkaban took mere seconds as a guard slapped Black with a tracking bracelet and a portkey which activated immediately.

XXXXXX

Fudge had been suffering from a distressingly bad day. Dumbledore had heavy-armed him. Lucius Malfoy had screamed a blue fit...literally since the walls were still tinged by a royal blue shade. Now he had three trade meetings in the next five minutes and Sirius Black was vomiting on the carpet. It wasn't even as if it was normal vomit. It was an inky black colour and it wriggled and quivered. Fudge shuddered before spelling the man directly into the fire-place with a portion of floo-powder and the address of Malfoy Manor public entrance. Two minutes after Black vanished his fire flashed again and the most repulsive load of...Fudge had no idea what to call it. It hopped. It wriggled. It oozed. It was simply unidentifiably gross. Worse it had come into his office unchallenged in the middle of his reassuring speech about the security of the Ministry of Magic. It was, quite simply, a bad day...and the 'thing' was apparently resistant to magic...or it had a million and one lives for the Aurors had been casting one particular unforgiveable at it for several minutes now and it still wriggled around displaying significant signs of life.

"Good heavens, Minister, I do most sincerely appologise." The dulcetly shocked tones of Lucius Malfoy startled Fudge out of his fascination with the thing which had come through the floo.

"Why? What can you possibly have to do with it?" Fudge stared at the fire place in shocked disbelief.

"Fortunately little, but I had to banish the result of cleaning Black somewhere and I'd assumed that he'd been flooed in from Azkaban since he hadn't been cleaned up at all." Malfoy shrugged appologetically. "Might I suggest you simply do a cleansing ball and floo it to Azkaban? I'm sure they would appreciate the return of those inmates who are still alive in that little lot."

"You..." Fudge sputtered unintelligibly for several moments before a secretary cast a cleansing ball and requested Malfoy to close his connection so the ball could be sent to Azkaban. The secretary seemed trifle peeved that Malfoy took this as an invitation to come on through, not simply retreat back into his own house.

"Filth." Fudge seemed on the verge of collapse. "Filth in my office." The portly minister subsided into a heap on the floor. Malfoy swallowed his grin before appologising for having come by at such an inconvenient moment departing, as he'd arrived, by floo.

XXXXXX


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 11**:

Professor Severus Snape stood in the shadows of Kings Cross Station, observing platform nine and platform ten. Nothing official had been said, but Snape had not watched Slytherins for the past ten years, after having been a Slytherin himself for seven, without having learnt the signs of a Slytherin involved in a deep plot. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini had both displayed classic symptoms of plotting. All of the first years, bar Potter, Crabbe and Goyle, had displayed the symptoms of aiding in a deep plot. Potter had been the only genuine innocent, for Crabbe and Goyle were simply too dangerous to be true. Snape's suspicions had an easy target, for it was Christmas and Dumbledore had insisted that Potter leave the castle...ostensibly so he might escape the charged atmosphere and enjoy his own family.

"Spying, Severus?" The soft voice of Lucius Malfoy amost caused Snape to startle and jump. "How unlike you, my slippery friend."

"A Malfoy in Muggle London?" Snape half turned his head to glance at the discreetly glamoured wizard. "Now, I know my suspicions were accurate."

"Suspicions?" Malfoy lifted a carefully cultivated eyebrow. "How very low."

"I heard you flooed a very nasty present to the Minister."

"It was hardly my fault that the Minister flooed me such a disgusting speciman without even the decency of cleaning it first." Malfoy sniffed and then sneered. "I had assumed that if Black came from the Ministry that he would be cleaned and treated."

"I see." Snape's expression of understanding and respect was almost perfect. Malfoy settled for a brief sneer before he swept on to Platform 9 3/4 to meet the Hogwarts Express. Snape's eyes narrowed as he considered the situation. It is difficult to decide the objective of others when you are unclear in your own objective. It was rather abruptly that Snape decided he would require plausible deniability, he found a shadow and apparated directly to Gringotts. Many people might lie, but never a Goblin. If Gringotts said you'd been there at a certain time, then you had been there at the certain time. Later Snape was going to be very grateful for his abrupt decision.

XXXXXX

Minerva McGonagal had been thinking of her office when she'd heard the crash from Poppy's office. Crashes were very unusual noises to hear from the hospital wing, it was only judicius to check that all was well with the medi-witch. Minerva had many possible explanations for the crash as she poked her head around Poppy's office door, but the sight of Poppy Pomphrey, a bitterly sobbing lump of boneless humanity in the middle of her office floor was not in any of them.

"Poppy?" Minerva was across the room in seconds to hug the mediwitch and commence comforting the distraught woman, she was giving Moaning Myrtle a run for her money in shattering sobs.

"M-min-ner-v-va." Poppy sobbed again.

"It's alright Poppy." Minerva was at a loss, for Poppy hadn't been this distraught ever, even when her brother had been killed fifteen years ago.

"T-they've re-reprimanded me." Poppy dissolved into tears again.

"Sshhh." Minerva gently stroked the smooth hair on top of Poppy's head. "Why?"

"The Zabini boy's leg." Poppy sniffed, finally starting to gain some control of herself. "It was fine when he came in...nasty bruise, but no fractures. I treated him for the bruising and thought nothing more of it beyond reprimanding Potter for such thoughtless magic on a housemate. Then Severus came in and raised a stink about microfractures...and there weren't any there before. I thought Severus might have done it himself initially...but even with Skelegro those horrible fractures just grew. I did everything I could, Minerva, but I never saw anything like it and now they're saying that I was lax in my initial scanning."

"The fractures grew after skelegro was applied?" Minerva was staggered.

"I know. Even the board can't explain why the fractures grew...though they were idiots enough to criticise Severus' potion making skills to his face." The noise was a definite laugh, though very damp sounding. "I-I don't think they'll do that again."

"I'm surprised to hear they're alive to consider doing such a foolish thing again." Minerva did not envy the board member who'd accused Snape, the man was probably in need of a mind healer now.  
"So am I." Poppy sniffed. "Then they went through all the files and..." Poppy sniffed convulsively, obviously battling ferociously to retain her current control. "Why did we do it Minerva? He's only eleven and didn't even know about magic before he arrived."

"Your point?" Minerva's mouth had thinned.

"I...we haven't been very fair to him."

"He's been charming every Gryffindor blue for weeks!"

"The Ravenclaws are turned pink and even a couple of Hufflepuffs came in with some weird pinky-green colour. Severus said that the only students charmed are the ones who attempt to hex or curse either Mr Potter or his friends."

"Poppy, I seriously doubt that all of Gryffindor have attempted to hex Mr Potter at one time or another...and he is the son of James Potter."

"I have to retake my oaths and will be under review every month for the next year...then if I've been good it will stretch to three months, then six months and then once a year." Poppy had changed her mind about young Mr Potter, but it was clear that Minerva had yet to forgive the young man for being sorted into Slytherin and obviously fitting in successfully. Peace was far more likely if the topic was changed.

"How long until you're off review?"

"Probably never...but at least I'm still registered." Poppy gave another convulsive sniff before stumbling to her feet and making a pot of tea. Never again would she allow anything interfer with her vows. The Oaths of the Healers were sacred and Poppy would not endanger her position as a Mediwitch again, even if it meant estrangement from the rest of the staff...she rather doubted that either Severus or any other Slytherin would trust her reformation. It was a sad thought, but she would stand by her decision.

XXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore had a headache. His usual remedies were not helping at all, and worst of all no muting charm seemed to work on the source of his headache. The silver gizmo was rather attractive if you looked at it from the right angle. Dumbledore had actually gone to considerable lengths positioning it so that his applied twinkles were reasonably possible...though Minerva had been known to sniff and express a level of disapproval that he'd actually spent the time to get the constellation of Orion to glitter off the odd little gizmo. The gizmo was whistling, and had been for the past two hours. The gizmo's whistle was specifically pitched to not be ignored or slept through. At present the gizmo's whistle was playing merry hell with the headache which had been carefully cultivating itself for days now. Dumbledore could almost visualise the black little headache shuffling around in his head, tilling the grey matter of his mind and watering in preparation of settling down for a good growing season and a ripe harvest. It obviously approved of the music entertainment currectly available for it was undoubtedly growing in leaps and bounds.

"Albus." It was a flat word and what it introduced was significantly more depressing than anything else he could have imagined. Half the staff of Hogwarts had somehow shoved their way into his office, and all of them had a varying array of disapproving expressions. Usually Snape was around at these things, using his tongue with vicious effectiveness, and giving Dumbledore significant patches of respite when the staff forgot about him while defending themselves against Severus' vicious barbs, which were usually uncomfortably accurate for all the man's complete lack of social skills.

"Yes?"

"Is it true that Lucius Malfoy got Black out of Azkaban a week ago?" Minerva McGonagal seemed to be keeping her temper with a great deal of difficulty.

"Yes." Dumbledore

"Why?"

"Black is the Head of the Black Family and his presence was required for some private business tied to the heirs."

"Heirs? There are Black Heirs?"

"Yes." Dumbledore rubbed his forehead again before he pinched the bridge of his nose hard, he had not been happy when he'd realised that Black had managed to successfully legitimate those two insane menaces. Pureblood blood rights had a lot to answer for since there was no way for him to block the two boys from attending Hogwarts next year, even if they were still addicted to their muggle drugs and completely insane. If there was any good thought it was that Slytherin was undoubtedly going to be turned on its head by those two menaces.

"Who are they?"

"I have no real idea." Dumbledore rose abruptly and studied the gizmoes on the shelf by the window, Harry Potter had yet to reach Privet Drive. "Lord Malfoy said they were bastard born and blood rights were required to legitmate the two boys so I assume that they're sons of Regulus, but equally they may be the result of the previous Lord Black."

"Regulus died at seventeen, Headmaster!" McGonagal was truly horrified.

"By which time he'd spent almost an entire year as a marked Death-Eater." Dumbledore moved back to his seat, a sensation of unease beginning to prickle the back of his neck. Harry Potter was taking far too long getting home...particularly since all his relatives were still registering as present at Privet Drive. "I'm only surprised the mothers lasted at all."

"Mothers? Albus, you referred to them as twins."

"Mary Weston bore Hayden Black, born March 17th 1980, the first collective soul in two hundred years. Amanda Ellis bore Paul Black, born December 10th 1980...who shares his older brother's collective soul. This is the only time this kind of event is recorded in the entire known history of the Wizarding World. It seems pointless not to consider them twins since they share a soul."

"Albus..." McGonagall fell silent and looked more than slightly sick. "Two muggles survived a revel?"

"Survived revels that were nine months apart. Miss Amanda Ellis survived the last revel that Regulus Black attended. I am guessing that significantly more women than just these two survived courtesy of Mr Black, these two are recorded because of the twins. Both women were obliviated, we assume, for they both were hospitalised nine months before their existances became recorded in the Wizarding World apparently suffering from extensive physical trauma and amnesia. Amanda Ellis died some six years ago, the authorities handed Paul over to Mary Weston after Paul identified her as his unofficial godmother and it was proven that Hayden was his blood kin." Albus Dumbledore's frown darkened significantly. Harry Potter should have reached home by now and that should have terminated that infuriating whistle.

"Headmaster!" The head in the fire was that of Alastor Moody, who'd been watching Kings Cross as a favour to Dumbledore. "I think you've got a bit of a problem."

"Oh?" Albus thought he had significantly more than a bit of a problem.

"Malfoy just hi-jacked the Potter brat."

"Lucius Malfoy kidnapped Harry Potter?"

"He had a little help from a glamoured Black...a very little help." Moody scowled momentarily before refocussing on Dumbledore. "Kidnapping implies unwillingness on the part of the second party, Potter was clearly surprised, but more than happy to go."

"Fine." Dumbledore waved the man off in annoyance before grabbing the gizmo and stuffing it into a small, warded box. That gizmo was going to make a racket until Potter either arrived at his relatives house, or returned to Hogwarts...and Dumbledore had no intention of suffering it for that duration of time.

"Why didn't Alastor stop the abduction?" McGonagal's expression was disapproving.

"No idea." Dumbledore settled back in his seat. "It wouldn't surprise me to hear that his inability to interfer had something to do with the little bit of help Malfoy got from Black...and we all know what Black can do."

"Yes." McGonagal looked slightly ill. Black ranged from mass murder to innumerable minor pranks of the more infuriating, and/or embarrssing nature. The truth of the matter was that if Black wanted a distraction, he got it, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.

"Let Severus know, when you next see him, that I wish to speak to him." Dumbledore started shuffling papers on his desk. It was a clear sign of dismissal and Minerva found that for once it really, really irked her.

XXXXXX

Spike Black stood next to his twin and shuffled a counterpoint as they waited in the receiving room. Sirius Black stood fairly closely behind the two boys and kept a very close eye on them. The Blood Inheritance Rights had done much for both boys, a lot more than had been admitted to the healers so far and Sirius Black suspected that possibly even more than he was aware of. The real test, however, was going to be the arrival of Harry Potter. The fact that Harry of all people had given those two boys their first taste of sanity...or at least their first taste of clear thought, was unbelieveable almost. Sirius Black was very curious about his godson indeed, for he'd heard a lot between Spike, Lucius Malfoy and the letters sent by Draco. Sirius had asked only once why Harry never wrote, and the explanation was one he didn't care to remember. What would happen when Harry met Spike this time?

Draco was the first to step out of the fireplace, his entry a dream of grace and dignity. Harry erupted next from the floo, his arrival a convoluted tangle of legs and arms which somehow ended up in a seemingly endless knot on the hearth. Lucius Malfoy followed last of all, his arrival as perfect as his son's, though his composure survived the sight of Harry on the rug, which was more than anyone else managed.

"Details!" One of the two Spike's was the first to recover his calm and he pounced on Draco, whom he quickly shook into a calm condition...if perhaps slightly irate. "Daiyati refuses to tell us anything."

"I'm not surprised." Draco subsided back into snickers and even Lucius Malfoy's composure cracked slightly at the memory. Harry untangled himself, but remained on the rug as he joined in the laughter though he hid it very well behind his hand.

"Details!" The other Spike joined in the fray with a slight jump and the result was a tangle on the rug of all four boys. Lucius Malfoy stepped swiftly backwards to avoid a flailing member before casting a look at Black and swirling out of the room. Sirius Black eyed the roiling mass of boys before deciding it would be in his best interests not to join in...tempting though it was. Black's departure was abrupt and the roiling mass on the rug soon sorted itself into four boys with the right number of arms and legs and only a couple of extra brauises.

"So." Harry sniffed as he looked between the two Spike Blacks and then scowled. "You're still muddled up."

"Not as bad as we were." Spike grinned suddenly as he settled with crossed legs. "We can still exchange our words and stuff, but it's optional. Occasionally the wrong one will answer a question...but Mr Malfoy seems to find it fairly irrelevent and actually says that it will probably become less."

"D-E-T-A-I-L-S!" The other Spike planted his elbows on his knees and stared pointedly at Draco, leaving it up to the other to stare at Harry.

"Fine." Draco snickered for a moment and then coughed. "Umm, it was Black."

"We know that." Spike rolled his eyes.

"Take a Black, add a request for a distraction and the result will be little short of chaos." Draco gave a small shrug.

"That's it!" Spike snapped harshly, but Draco was caught off-guard for it was the Spike who hadn't spoken who tackled him to the floor from the left.

XXXXXX

"Do explain." Lucius was studying the late edition of the newspaper which lay on his formidable desk before glancing up at Black. Snape had brought the newspaper with him when he'd arrived a mere five minutes previously, and it wasn't half apparent that Lucius had been hard-pressed not to express himself sooner. The front page, which they'd yet to move past, was occupied almost completely by a photograph of Platform Nine and Three Quarters and the mysterious disaster which had struck that afternoon. "Why a Grand Piano, Black?"

"It worked didn't it?" Sirius had been admiring the image of a scarlet featured Moody struggling to get a hand out from under the piano which pinned him to the concrete of Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The picture only struggled for a few seconds before the explosion blew the Steinway out of existance and a clearly irate Moody sprang to his feet. "I considered a Baby Grand for a bit but decided it was too great a risk that not all members would be appropriately pinned." The watchful Moody was flattened as another Steinway fell from thin air immediately over his head.

"Severus, can you enlighten this poor, dim pureblood exactly what the significance of the Grand Piano is?"

"Muggle entertainment gag." Snape's expression was incredibly sour. "No idea why...and even less idea of why the gag has meaning for Moody."

"Spoilsport." Black sniffed and then sighed. "Auror Training, Muggle Orientation...we ended up in a movie theatre with some movie that ended up with the villain squashed by a falling piano." Black scratched his head for a moment. "Moody was in charge of us at the time and for the rest of training when he shouted Constant Vigilence, we'd ask him where the piano was." Black indicated the irate Moody. "The old #$% sure remembers it even if he won't admit it."

"So that's why the text floating above his irate read reads..." Lucius squinted at the page. "Constant Vigilence, you never know when the Piano may fall."

"I thought it an adequate distraction." Black elevated his nose and then sniffed before waltzing out of the room to join the boys in whatever mayhem they were currently engaged.

"He seems awfully undisturbed for a man who will be back in Azkaban in a weeks time." Snape was struggling to suppress his sneer.

"Such is the mind of a Gryffindor Black." Lucius gave a very faint smile. "Such is also the reason for his on going sanity, for he takes the world as it comes, deals with it and trusts in his ability to cope with whatever the future throws his way." Lucius leant backwards in his chair. "I have given him the same information as I gave you, and for Harry's sake he has sworn the same oaths...if he does refer to the past, you will only feature as his mother's friend and lab partner for many years...he has also confessed to having no idea why they behaved as they did, he tenders no appologies for he recognises that the crime is unforgiveable. He simply offers to either ignore the past, or to avoid you...but in all honesty, Severus, I suggest you choose to ignore the past...Black has no discipline and even less ambition, but he has a raw talent that will be of unquestionable use to you if you choose to access it. I suspect that if you pick his brains in the right manner he can provide some possible directions of research for your insolubles."

"For now I shall suspend my decision." Snape formed the words with difficulty.

"I'm bringing up the exploding cauldron and the inert goop at dinner tonight. I trust, them being a topic we can all speak on, that you will not do your usual 'silent and scowling' act?"

"If Black has any suggestions about that inert goop I will forgive even that bloody Were-Wolf incident!" Snape scowled fiercely as his mind drifted back to the months old irritation. The 'inert goop' was still resistant to any, and every, effort to determine its make-up. What Potter remembered produced the 'inert goop' time after time, but the analytical details were impossible and much seemed to be dependent on something that only Potter could sense when constructing 'inert goop'. Unfortunately Potter wasn't aware of whatever it was which effected the production of 'inert goop', and until successfully analysed and processed as a reproduceable potion by all, 'inert goop' remained a secret ingredient in the private labs of Severus Snape...though it occasionally made a short showing in the cauldron of one Neville Longbottom.

Lucius Malfoy rose to his feet when the dinner bell sounded and lead the way into the dining room. Snape drifted somewhat distractedly after him, his thoughts still preoccupied with the 'inert goop'. Conversation began and flourished easily between the boys, Black and Snape with only the occasional helping hand from Lucius to keep it moving and on relevent tracks. The meal ended and the entire party, minus Narcissa, migrated easily into the Potions Laboratory where it remained until the House Elf came in to remind Lucius that the Little Masters required sleep even if they weren't at school. The boys were packed off to bed and the conversation wavered unsteadily for a couple of minutes before Lucius skillfully returned it to the realms of Potions and he watched with a quiet smirk as two men, who considered each other to be arch-enemies, remained bent over a single cauldron and the related problem until three o'clock in the morning...and they only stopped then because Lucius decided that even in the name of civil peace he could not let things continue. This Christmas held promise of being deeply interesting and it was with a quiet smile that Lucius Malfoy made his way to bed, thanking the day that Harry Potter had become a Slytherin.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: An explanation of Spike Black. The Black boys have magical names of Hades and Pluto, as given to them by their father Regulus Black. Their muggle names are Hayden and Paul. As a sick collective soul they have connected for the sake of survival. They are in essence, one soul with two bodies which is so scrambled as to be essentially non-functional until the bloodrites stabilised them. They are still one soul with two bodies, but the bloodrites have given them control by repressing the anomaly which is identified as the collective soul. No extra points for those who conclude correctly why, for the most part, both are referred to as Spike when speaking, but by name when a body is acting.

Boing is the game.  
'Boing' is the noise made involuntarily when playing the game.  
'Boi-oing' is the noise which means you missed it.

Chapter 12:

The Sorting Hat had a very low opinion of wizarding taste in annual celebrations. Of late, namely the past thirty years, the Sorting Hat's opinion of wizarding taste had in essence been flushed down the toilet along with the results of Snape's first year potions disasters. Food, true gifts and a few tasteful cuttings were tolerable in the Sorting Hat's opinions, but when it came to tinsel, glitter balls and the festive robes of Albus Dumbledore he drew the line and usually requested time in the Potions Dungeon to save his sanity. This year though, Snape was not protecting his dungeons from decoration, and Dumbledore had undoubtedly gone to town with the intention of setting a new record for god-awful robes in even worse taste.

"Sorting Hat?" Dumbledore swirled in his robes before folding his arms. "Would you like to join us for this year's feast?"

"No." The Sorting Hat shuffled around, pointedly turning it's back to Dumbledore.

"But..." Dumbledore stopped as he heard the Gryphon at the foot of his stairs move. "This is a surprise, Severus." Dumbledore swung the door open as the dour man reached the top of the stairs.

"Mr Potter has requested to consult the Sorting Hat."

"Severus..."

"It was the Sorting Hat which demanded the weekly meetings."

"Very well." Dumbledore practically threw the hat at Severus, before scowling after the man as he departed. Dumbledore had his suspicions about Severus Snape, but to date there was no proof, merely confusing contradictions. The man was rigid in his observance and defence of the unwritten rules he enforeced concerning Slytherin House. By no whisper of a hint was there evidence that outside of his duty to Slytherin House Severus had anything but utter repulsion for the Potter boy. Minerva would undoubtedly celebrate with vigour if there was even the faintest whisper of proof that Severus acted in regards to the Potter boy with anything beyond extremely reluctant tolerance. Minerva had been petitioning for almost as long as Severus had been a Head of House to cramp his freedom for deducting points from other houses...in particular Gryffindor.

"Headmaster Dumbledore?" Minerva McGonagall was surprised to find a pensive Dumbledore frowning absently out the window. Normally, at this time of year, Dumbledore was to be found in the Great Hall encouraging Christmas Spirit among the students. Today though, he was simply frowning out a window, and not even frowning at what his eyes saw.

"Minerva?"

"You're usually in the Great Hall by now."

"It's also usual that Severus would be down in his dungeons...but he's not." Dumbledore's frown deepened. "Should I be worried that Severus just came to retrieve the hat for Mr Potter's weekly consultation?"

"Black's meant to be in that house as well." Minerva's mouth tightened. "I would be very worried."

"Mm-yes." Dumbledore had forgotten that Sirius Black was spending Christmas at the Malfoys, the responsibility of Lucius Malfoy, supposedly to straighten out the tangled affairs of the Black twins. It was easy to forget since Black had finished the work within days of his temporary release for legal reasons and had been completely invisible ever since. It was with dark suspicion that Dumbledore viewed the fact that Lucius Malfoy had persuaded the Ministry that Black would require until two days after term resumed to complete the work, particularly when one considered that he had also abducted Harry Potter for duration of said leave. One didn't have to be Merlin or Ravenclaw to smell a rat in that little setup. Regrettably there was nothing to be done though, for Black was Potter's Godfather, and therefore legal guardian...even gaol time couldn't change that little, inconvenient fact.

XXXXXX

'Boing'

The little noise was the only warning Severus Snape required to know that he did not want to enter the room whose door he'd been on the verge of opening. His original intent on braving the second floor where the four boys had been banished until eight o'clock tomorrow morning, had been to deliver the Sorting Hat into Potter's care. Now his intention changed, for Black was a short distance behind him, and if the boys were as hyperactive as they were earlier, the only difficulty lay in getting Black through the door without alerting him to the potential peril on the other side.

'Boing'

There was essentially no other noise in the room, which meant there was a fair chance that the players were engaged in the most discreet form of the game and probably in the corner furthest from the door. It really was rather a pity, for Snape would have liked to see what Black's response was to the experience of literally walking into the middle of a game of boing. Snape himself had literally had his hair stand on end and only his old training at the hands of the Marauders had stopped him from randomly hexing the Slytherin Commonroom.

'Boi-oing.'

The noise let Snape know that he had his chance and he hastily inserted his head into the room before jumping into the room and banging the door smartly in Black's face.

"Professor Snape." Potter scrambled to his feet immediately.

"The Sorting Hat, Potter." Snape held out the artefact as he sharply eyed the remaining three boys who had not risen from their seats on the floor. "I trust you are not intending to introduce it to Boing."

"No sir." Potter retreated to a corner as far from the others as possible and pulled the Sorting Hat down over his ears.

"Boing?" Black was looking inquisitively around the door.

"Oh, it's the latest thing, Mr Black, sir." Draco ceased his inquisitive study of Potter in his corner. "We've tried to teach those above fifth year, but no one has managed it yet."

"Why?" Black dropped down to sit next to Draco.

"The reason they can't teach it is that no one above fifth year has a sufficiently childish mind to comprehend what the game entails in terms of magical demand." Snape had settled himself in the corner which gave him a good view of both Potter and the other three boys. With a discussion of boing in place, Snape had no intention of leaving anyone alone in the room.

"Fugh!" Black wrinkled his nose up. "I have it on your good authority that I forgot to continue growing after five. Explain, Little Malfoy."

"It's...'Boing'." Draco had batted his hand gently and made the odd springing noise which had been identified as a boing.

"Wha...'boi-oing'." Black blinked in surprise before a frown began knitting across his forehead. "Hand?"

"Localised wandless shield of some type." Draco held out his hand for inspection. The shield was not what caused a problem since Snape had joined in the odd game. The problem was the little charm which made up the other half of the game.

"The other part is, I presume, an audio charm of some sort."

"'Boing'." Draco had retrieved his hand to make the noise leaving Black to scramble madly for a moment to get a shield up.

"'Boing'." Black seemed delighted no to have made the longer noise which indicated he had worn the charm. Draco though was looking at a red splatch on the ceiling with extreme dissatisfaction.

"You crashed it."

"I didn't get much warning."

"Well try watching for a bit." Draco turned to the Black twins and swiped his hand through the air. "'Boing'."

"'Boing'." Hades served to Pluto before catching it back and sending it on to Draco who sent it back to Pluto.

"Professor!" It was the only warning Draco gave as he served across to the Potions Professor who scrambled a bit before successfully returning somewhat haphazardly to Pluto Black.

"It's the charm isn't it." Black had drifted across to where Snape sat very occasionally fielding a serve from the three boys who seemed for the most part quite content to switch the ball rapidly among themselves. "Shield's no problem, but what is the charm which they use?"

"Not even Flitwick figured that out and he was watching for hours." Snape batted his next serve towards Potter who was still buried in the Sorting Hat.

"Wha..." Black swallowed his complaint as he observed Potter serve the ball directly to Hades without even moving the hat, which reached well past his nose. "How does he do that?"

"We have no idea and unfortunately none of the staff at Hogwarts have the maturity to help."

"Eh?" Black was confused.

"When Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin Headmaster Dumbledore made a face like his father had just come back from the dead and was holding the school hostage. McGonagal looked like someone had transfigured her desk into a Cerberus during one of her first year transfiguration classes...and quite frankly the rest of us practically fell off our seats in shock because everyone took it for granted that the baby who defeated the Dark Lord would be a nice, light Gryffindor with a taste for pranks and quidditch. Instead they got a Slytherin Saviour who is a little uncanny and has the most unsettling stare you've ever had the misfortune to meet. In the first week alone he was deducted over three hundred house points...which fortunately Hogwarts refused to remove, though she did keep the tally incase I lost the arguement during the staff meeting. In the first two weeks he was given in excess of five hundred detentions...and amazingly high number of which he actually served. Minerva holds the record for detentions issued to him in one class, though Sprout is not far behind her. Sinistra thinks that Poppy Pomphrey has found her brain though and is remembering that he's just an eleven year-old boy who was raised by Muggles...it did take a formal review and reprimand by the Medi-Board though."

"Penberthy is Malfoy's pet for magical anomalies in wizards, call him up and we can put all three boys through their paces." Black had somehow managed to swallow all of his emotions in the face of the truth which had been skirted around for several days now.

"Not until after Lucius' gift of Dark Arts training begins, magical scans still show Harry James Potter to be a squib...except in the very early morning."

"Why do you want him to learn the Dark Arts, Snape? It doesn't make sense from what I can see."

"POTTER!" Draco's outcry caused both men to look up sharply at Potter, who had a red splatch indicative of having failed to catch the boing, but he'd made no noise and the splatch was seemingly soaking into his arm.

"That's why. He absorbs magic and emotions and it is seriously compromising his ability to do magic."

"That's freaky."

"You haven't seen half of it yet, but I'll suggest to Lucius that he brings in Penberthy when he gives the okay for control."

"Thanks, Snape." Black grimaced slightly. "Never thought I'd say it to you, but I'm glad Harry came under your control at Hogwarts."

"You're welcome." Snape abruptly rose and departed, the boys were starting yet another game of boing, and Potter was more than competent to protect he hat from harm.

XXXXXX

Severus Snape watched quietly from the corner as Lucius worked with the two boys, he had learnt more in this single morning of observation than he'd learnt in his years of study in the Dark Arts. At this level the Dark Arts were little more than an exercise in emotional control and magical channeling. There was a price to be paid when meddling with the Dark Arts and Lucius Malfoy would guarantee that the price was known long before the first genuine Dark Spell was cast. The Malfoys were Dark Wizards for their entire history and what they didn't know about surviving a lifetime of Dark Arts didn't need to be known. Albus would undoubtedly have a conniption if he knew of this morning's venture, but Severus was no fool and he knew that if Potter was to survive Hogwarts he had to learn faster ways of leeching emotions from his magic. To date the boy was using a rather nasty spell Severus had learnt which quite literally drained all emotion from the body, but in the long term this was a far from adequate solution. The fastest means of consuming emotion ever discovered was the Dark Arts, and only the Ancient Families who still clung to dark roots retained any knowledge of the Art which brought the Dark Arts their name. The Dark Arts demanded emotion, therefore the studies focussed on the need to cultivate the emotions and resultantly the need to control them and dismiss them without causing mental or physical damage. This was the portion that Severus had never learnt, for his mother had never learnt them and no book ever dreamed of discussing the matter.

"Lucius."

"Severus?" Lucius only half turned his head away from watching the two boys as they struggled with the current exercise.

"Why are only the boys taught this?"

"Tradition." Lucius corrected something that Harry was doing wrong and kept his full attention on the two boys for a second. "We probably do lose some very good practitioners through not teaching our daughters...and we certainly lose a lot of people in general since said daughters cannot pass on what they have never learnt. However, it is much like good Estate Management, the knowledge is kept localised and therefore not tainted."

"Not having the faintest knowledge of Estate Management, do expand."

"Our sons are taught the Dark Arts and Estate Management. Our daughters usually learn Dark Arts Healing and Household Management. Between a couple therefore an Estate and Household will be well managed and any unintentional damage can be repaired. An Estate divided into too many fragmentary portions in an effort to be fair becomes financially inviable. The Weasleys decided to be 'fair' some three centuries ago and you can see the result...particularly since none of them arranged for their portion to be reabsorbed into the original whole when their line ended. The land was simply sold off for incredibly little...I think we actually hold over half of what used to be theirs." Lucius gave a small shrug.

"Why the method in the first place?"

"Rights of Death. As the Estate Managers we are duty bound to be responsible for the actions of our people...magical or not. Because we will pay in any formal court for the actions of our people we are also granted the right to punish them ourselves...and there's also the little matter, so beautifully illustrated by our late Dark Lord, that the knowledge of death in the wrong hands is a very bad thing. If one of my people, including the House Elves, commits a murder which is in breach of Ministerial Law...which basically means they murder someone other than a someone who is a part of my Estate, then I will punish them before standing trial for first degree murder in front of the Wizengamot."

"Punishment includes execution I presume?"

"Usually." Lucius gave a small snort. "Anything not requiring an execution is usually dealt with by the people themselves...I just have to watch them to ensure that they do not do too far. My father had to execute two men for no other reason than because they beat a man who'd been stealing from the Estate to the point of death. They have the power to flog up to twenty times or to incarcerate, with minimal provisions, for the space of a week...they have no right to endanger another's life under any circumstances whatsoever...and that includes endangerment of my own life."

"Over twenty?"

"The situation is brought to me and if just the punishment is cruciatus, scaled up by the length of time maintained depending on the crime. Incarceration of over a week enables inventiveness since the guilty person will need to be reduced to a condition to be confined in the Hospital for the duration of their punishment...suffice to say there is a reason why the people come to the Lady of the House long before they'll go near the Hospital for any injury not inflicted by myself. The hospital is simply there so people can be healed, it is not there to make them happy or comfortable."

"Pomphrey would have a fit."

"I doubt it. No one has died in the hospital, apart from the terminally old, in over eight hundred years now...that's a record held by no other Hospital in the world...assuming any hospital has even been open that long."

"You have a point." Snape's expression was pensive as he ordered the information he had acquired. "The Weasleys quit the Dark Arts because of the property loss?"

"No point studying what the laws of the land forbid you to practice." Lucius gave a shrug. "The Rights of Death cease when you have no dependents under the law of the land."

"Ah." Severus lapsed into watchful silence for the remaining hour and wasn't totally surprised when a rather red Black sidled into the room and started working in a corner.

"You're missing out the second step by three seconds Black." Lucius may have been focussing on the two boys, but he was obviously at least aware of Black's activities.

"Oh." Black's practice changed very slightly and drew an abrupt frown from Severus as he recognised that Black was doing exactly what the boys were doing, but at a significantly faster and smoother pace. This realisation drew Snape's memory back to watching Lucius earlier that morning when he'd swung through what seemed to be a series of dances. Whatever the two boys were learning right now, it was clearly a practice for life.

"Better." The comment came from Lucius as he folded up the teaching of the two boys and his attention was on Black, who had clearly tightened up his method and manner, smoothing it into a flow, but it still had a long way to go to match the flawless grace and speed of what Lucius did.

"Thanks." Black gasped the word out for he was badly winded and dripping with persperation, but there was an element of satisfaction in his air as he dried his face and emptied a couple of mugs of water down his throat from the group which stood to the side of the room.

"They're brought in by Narcissa when she does her exercises at the rising of the sun, no House Elf is permitted to enter a room of this sort." Lucius handed the boys a mug each before helping himself as well.

"Particular reason?" Severus looked around the room in minor confusion.

"Tradition." Black finally spoke in a controlled manner. "Which is the Pureblood reason for anything which has been lost in the mists of time."

"Honestly Black, a little respect."

"I am full of respect, that just happens to be the truth. If you don't know exactly why you do something you assign it to tradition and ignore the matter."

"I'd forgotten how much I hated you and your honesty thing." Lucius looked vaguely annoyed.

"That's just because my honesty dents your dignity and is usually quite sensible...hence my advice that you teach Severus this stuff as well. Potter can't simply stop practicing because he's in school and there's no question but that it's giving him some control over this Malice Magic problem...he managed a Cheering Charm yesterday...and Draco even laughed."

"You did?" Snape swung to look at the boy, who was currently trying to hide behind Draco.

"I cast something, but I doubt that's why Draco laughed." Harry sounded slightly disgruntled.

"Half and half." Draco put his nose in the air and sniffed. "Because you charmed me I started to laugh, and then your wretched expression made it impossible for me to stop."

"This is not the first time you've had this lesson?" Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Relax, Severus, I merely had Draco instruct Harry in certain lessons he learnt when he was five and are a precursor to these lessons. It's basic meditation and focussing, so they know when they're actually learning or if they are wasting the time of both of us." Lucius Malfoy seemed amused by the current situation.

"Congratulations, Mr Potter, I'm relieved to hear that this gamble has paid off so successfully." Snape narrowed his eyes further as he considered the options available. Something else was happening, beyond what he'd expected when he'd discussed the possibility with Lucius, and Snape did not like it when he was not certain about immediate events.

XXXXXX


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 13:**

"Ahh, Little Brimless, so kind of you to take time from your busy schedule to visit a crochety old hat."

"Big Brim, you are a shameless fraud." Harry dropped into a convenient seat before pulling the hat a little more firmly down around his ears. "Continue in this vein and I may mention the effects of ButterBeer on your system."

"That is a totally uncalled and baseless threat." The hat continued to mumble for a moment before it shuffled around. "Were you aware, Little Brimless, that your hair stands on end most beautifully if I shuffle in an anti-clockwise direction?"

"Yes, I was." Harry scowled into the interior of the hat. "It takes me an hour to get it to sit down again."

"Why is it so important it sits down?" The hat tilted as it tried to hear Harry's mumbled answer. "Speak up boy, I'm not a mind reader."

"Just a mind-shuffler." Harry took a very deep breath and then braced himself. "McGonagall gives me detention if my hair's too messy."

"Why have I not heard complaints from your Head of House regarding these detentions? You must be receiving them weekly."

"But it's..." Harry halted for the hat had simply grabbed the information and fear from his mind.

"Little Brimless, your Head of House cannot defend either your self, nor any of your housemates against abuse of his authority if he doesn't know it is happening. There is no mention in any of the school's charters that messy hair is an offence, let alone an offence warrenting a detention...which is usually reserved for disrespectful behaviour in class, being out after curfew and fighting in the corridors. I'm afraid that my messing your rather lamentable hair up falls under none of those categories and therefore cannot earn you anything worse than a reprimand...and certainly no points lost." The hat scowled in turn before cramming a little more tightly down onto Harry's head. "32 points to Slytherin for patience and endurance in trying times. Oh, and an extra 10 points for not betraying the Weasley Twins when Professor Snape rescued you and Mr Malfoy from the Ravenclaws in the Owlery...you were quite correct, he would not have listened to reason and he probably would have punished them excessively for just happening to be there...particularly since they were carrying a load of dung bombs."

"I think you just gave me the only points I've earned all year." Harry tilted his head and tugged on the front edge of the Sorting Hat.

"Professor Snape doesn't give you points?"

"Professor Snape gives me another book instead of kicking me out of his lab if I refrain from annoying him too badly." Harry frowned slightly. "I prefer not to annoy him because he has much better aim than my cousin."

"Professor Sinistra?"

"She gives me the stars." Harry perked up. "I mean honestly, they haven't changed."

"Changed?" The Hat frowned abruptly. "What do you mean by changed?"

"They dance as they have always danced, but they have not changed...though Estella did die with rather a bang."

"Let me see that." The Hat scuffled around to a new position. "It's not there."

"It's never there." Harry swung around on his seat and shrugged.

"Never there?" The Hat tipped itself upside down and looked intently at Harry.

"Umm..." Harry squinted at the Hat rather painfully. "You're making me cross-eyed."

"And?" The Hat spun around. "You have memories of things that aren't in your head."

"The Blacks have memories of themself with other faces." Harry tipped himself upside down and grinned as the Hat wailed and clamped onto his head more fiercely.

"Must you do that?"

"You were being serious?"

"Four eyes." The Hat winced as Harry swung back up the right way. "Faces?"

"Oh, Spike found the memories of Tasi who was a House Elf at Malfoy Manor back when Draco's grandfather was a boy...we had to find his identity in the family book because Mr Malfoy definitely did not remember."

"I presume that Mr Black can prove his is not part House-Elf and hiding dark secrets of that race."

"Very safe, we were playing with potions and got eighty-four generations for Spike...and twelve generations for three random lives he apparently stored in the back of his great-great-grandfather's head...though Mr Malfoy is of the view that they are actually soul fragments from said nasty ancestors incorrect use of dark magic."

"That is a very interesting suggestion young Potter."

"I'm more interested in whether there are any other soul fragments stored by their ancestors." Harry swung his legs gently from side to side. "I mean Hector Slashin was a Potions Master and you wouldn't believe the stuff we learnt from him in just twenty-minutes about the uses of Gillyweed in potions. Just taken straight it means you can breathe underwater for an entire hour...though it hurts to try and breathe outside of the water during that hour. But if you mix Gillyweed with..."

"Now, now, Mr Potter, I am a Sorting Hat, not a Potions Master, discuss these subjects with your upper classmen."

"Professor Snape already assigned me an essay on that and the effects of light on ingredients." Harry was sounding rather glum.

XXXXXX

"Think you George?"

"It's odd, I'll give you that." George was studying the ratty parchment with a perplexed frown.

"What's odd?" Lee Jordan's expression was very inquisitive.

"It's Potter." George kept the map under his nose and gave Lee no access.

"You two have become quite odd about that boy." Lee Jordan seemed a trifle undecided about how he was going to behave. Habit spoke instantly of Slytherins and Dark Lords, but Lee trusted the twins and they seemed to think not everything was right and it had started before the Christmas break. Infact the twins had been subtley, but very actively, hampering any and all who persued Potter and his little cliche. "He's even got himself his own group of followers."

"What would you do if half the school chased you and hexed you?" Fred looked up from his book.

"I'd get some friends to...oh." Lee frowned. "You think they're defenders?"

"Dunno, but Potter shares control with the Malfoy brat and the pug-faced blonde. Potter'll defend them from the upper years, because he never gets hurt as bad as you'd think from what hits him."

"That's not due cause to panic?"

"Not if you consider all the other weird stuff which circles around." George shrug and finally laid the map aside. "Boy's not normal, I'll give him that."

"Who would be normal after surviving the Killing Curse at fifteen months, it's not like he spent yers studying the curse and developing defenses before he survived it."

"If Potter takes the nastier hits, what's the point of his little friends?"

"Even the 'Claws can't get the jump on Potter when he's got his friends around...and even we'd think twice about chucking a genuinely nasty hex if there was even an off chance of it hitting Malfoy instead of Potter."

"Ahh." Lee winced at the memory. A couple of months into the school year and one of the seventh year 'Claws had hexed Malfoy by accident, though technically it was undoutedly a curse, not a hex. The mess would undoubtedly have been blamed on Potter but for the fact that Malfoy knew exactly who had cursed him and Owled his father about it the moment he was released from the infirmary. Potter hadn't been put on detention before Malfoy was released because Snape was refusing to let the boy out of the dungeons, though the cauldron supply had been unbelieveably clean during that week. Lucius Malfoy had descended upon Hogwarts in a manner which struck fear into the bravest of Gryffindor hearts and made Snape seem mild and possibly even kind for a week or so afterwards. If anyone doubted their parents' claims that Lucius Malfoy was second only to Black in the ranks Dark Wizards, that arrival and visit had silenced any doubts. Malfoy senior had torn a strip a mile wide through the Hogwarts staff, and hospitalised two who had objected to the freedom with which he disapproved of their handling of his son's hexing. The work of Malfoy Snr was significantly more painful and subtle than anything that any student could even begin to dream of. Malfoy Snr.'s departure was of note because it held the only 'pleasant' moment in the man's entire visit of eight hours. Lucius Malfoy had found the 'Claw who cursed his son, smiled kindly and encourage the boy to further his studies. Even now Lee could feel the cold centipedes in icy boots scampering up and down his spine, at the time Warrens had fainted and been hospitalised for shock, even Ron had recognised the recruiting moove.

"McGonagal told Sprout only the other week that Flitwick, who had apparently been concerned about how dark Warrens' reading had been drifting, was celebrating a perfect about face in Warrens' taste and that if You-Know-Who does come back, Warrens is one 'Claw who unquestionably will not join him." Fred gave a grin.

"Why does all this make you want to trust Potter?" Lee brought the subject back to the point.

"Wouldn't trust him an inch, just don't think that he's a pending Dark Lord just because he's a Slytherin." George was studying the ragged parchment again. "The boy is a Slytherin, no question there...and he'll get home safe today."

"Good." Fred finally picked up his book again.

"What happened before Christmas which changed your tune?" Lee was frowning.

"The senior 'Claws cornered Potter in the Owlery with the intention of doing some serious damage. Snape got there before Potter was reduced to a hospital trip."

"You watched on your map?" Lee seemed a trifle confused.

"We were there and Potter didn't feed us to Snape...which would have saved him from quite a reprimand for carelessness. Snape was after our blood that day and Potter had to have known that."

"He even know you were there?"

"He deliberately stepped into the way of the few curses that came our way, though he happily let several hit the walls otherwise...he also threw a very nice shield up to protect the owls. If the boy wasn't such a Slytherin I'd think he was a Gryffindor to be perfectly honest, he always does the noble when under fire."

"Does Snape like the boy?"

"No." Fred's response was firm. "Snape will defend Potter because the boy is a Slytherin, has some respect for the boy because of skill in Potions, but personally hates him I reckon. Pretty sure our Dungeon Bat gets in a right pickle between the respect and hate if it's outside of class and Potter ain't getting hexed up by the seniors."

"Christmas at Malfoys must have been a doozy, what with Black and Snape who were apparently at daggers drawn while at school, and Potter being sent Howlers every day...think the Malfoys could screen out howlers?"

"That or get House Elves to open them in a nice, distant dungeon." George frowned. "Dad reckons that Malfoy is still hiding stacks of stuff and is furious that Black is not being forced to submit to ministry inspections 'cause that just means that Malfoy will send the real stuff to Black for safe keeping because of his wife."

"You purebloods give me a headache." Lee shuffled off with a sigh. It was at times like this that he really did not understand the wizarding world and its fascinations. In particular he failed to comprehend why the house a person was sorted into mattered. Potter was unchanged from when he'd defeated the Dark Lord as a baby, why did the world view shift simply because the boy ended up in Slytherin rather than Gryffindor where the wizarding world firmly believed the boy belonged. Curious what drove the motives of the twins though, perhaps others might be swayed by the knowledge that Potter had taken on Snape to protect the twins from the Potion Master's very warrentable wrath.

XXXXXX

Lucius Malfoy had enjoyed the last couple of months. Not a single official letter had been sent his way by Hogwarts. No detentions, serious point losses, or notification of destruction of items or property. Draco's letters home did confess to the odd pursuit which required to be eluded...at least once every couple of days, but the lack of notes from Severus was reassuring in that it confirmed that pursuit was almost invariably successfully eluded. All in all, it was an immeasurable degree of peace for a man with a boy at school. Now all that remained was putting the finishing touches on ensuring that Black was released and cleared of all charges, and Fudge felt sufficiently intimidated to sign the papers which would ensure that no future government could reverse the decision. The biggest problem with the whole Black situation, was not getting the man free, rather it was ensuring that the man wouldn't be sent back the moment he set foot on dry land after being set free. There was also the mattering of ensuring that the Ministry did not confiscate the means of the Black Family as soon as the release was finished. That was the trick, the art though was in ensuring that no one realised just how much work had been required to get Sirius Black out of Azkaban, let the world believe he'd simply asked and received, that was the art of politics and power.

Lucius Malfoy smiled quietly as he packed up the last of the parchments and tomes that he'd used for the Back matter. Tomorrow he would go in search of something new, after ensuring Black was safe and settled in his family home. Something new. A challenge.

"Lucius." Narcissa's voice came from the fireplace, her face bobbed gently in the flames.

"Narcissa?" Lucius paused and came to kneel next to the fire.

"Severus Snape just called through from Hogwarts that Draco is in the Hospital Wing again?"

"Reason?"

"Apparently a detention went wrong."

"Why was Draco even on detention? We've received no notification."

"I am uncertain, but it would seem that the detention was given mere minutes before the detention began."

"Do I go to Hogwarts, or do I summon the Board of Governors." Lucius tipped his head in a pensive ponder before his mind latched onto a curious omission.

"I think you should go to Hogwarts, if only to ensure that Draco does not suffer for what is being done from fear and prejudice."

"Thankyou for your sound advice." Lucius stepped backwards from the fire, packed the remainder of his study away before stepping out into the main hall. Narcissa waited with his cloak and a concerned expression.

"Be careful Lucius, I was talking to Severus when it all started and something very odd is going on. If you can, bring them home with you for a couple of days. I am afraid for them."

"I promise." Lucius swept away, unaware of just what had happened while he'd tidied the final loose ends of the Black situation that afternoon.

XXXXXX


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 14:**

Minerva McGonagal was trembling as she entered her office. Never in all her days had she felt such white-hot rage and betrayal. Even when she'd heard of Sirius Black had she not felt like this, and on that day she had destroyed her office. Blood was leaking from her palms where claws had dug in deeply. Only when her rage was truly uncontrollable did she partially transform any part of herself. Today it was claws with which to scratch and tear. The loathsome, dispicable, conniving...there were no words to express the betrayal of trust. McGonagal took a deep breath and carefully relaxed herself and restored her claws to fingernails. Even magic would not stop the scarring on her palms, but that was good, it would remind her in future never to trust Slytherins.

"Minerva?" Professor Sinistra stood in the doorway with a perplexed expression.

"What?" McGonagal was not feeling charitable.

"Severus is on the warpath."

"Why?"

"I have no idea." Sinistra rolled her eyes in exasperation. "But it possibly has something to do with the fact that he's just been notified that you sent both Potter and Malfoy on detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest while Narcissa Malfoy stood in his office. No one sends students out on detention immediately, you know it has to be approved by the rest of the staff unless it is something in your office and properly supervised."

"But..."

"Forget it Minerva, I'll tell Severus that when he wishes for a break from the wrath of Narcissa Malfoy he can send the woman up here. Do enjoy telling Narcissa why her son is irretrieveably evil and unforgiveable at the age of eleven."

"But..." McGonagal spluttered again and then sighed for the door was already shut behind Sinistra. In truth, Draco Malfoy had merely been caught up on the edge of the situation, Minerva knew that the boy was harmless, if rather spoilt and arrogant, but it was the only way to deal with the situation. Harry James Potter had to learn that the rules applied to him every bit as much as the rules applied to all students. The boy had to learn that the Staff Corridors were strictly out of bounds and scrubbing Cauldrons for Snape clearly hadn't gotten the message through to him. McGonagal sighed wearily and then called it a night. Tomorrow was going to be dreadful and the points lost in any potions class were undoubtedly going to be phenomenal. The Staff meeting was undoubtedly going to be murderous and she knew she was going to need all the sleep she could get.

XXXXXX

It was a scream that woke Hogwarts. The castle stirred uneasily and shifted all her staircases and a couple of fireplaces before being certain that the scream had not been from within her walls. The screams were ongoing though and the Sorting Hat cowered and cursed in many tongues as it was unable to escape from the noise. The screams caused Headmaster Dumbledore to choke on a Lemon Drop. They were screams which echoed and rebounded through the air, tore through the halls of Hogwarts and wrapped themselves around the ears of anyone within range...and everyone was within range in the castle for the screams were magically enhanced and had added themselves to the wards of Hogwarts. They were the screams of a soul torn from its mortal anchor and cast into the beyond. It was the sound of the ultimate destruction and in its passage it froze all who heard it.

XXXXXX

Poppy Pomfrey had just dismissed the last student who'd been rendered hysterical by those hideous screams when Hagrid came into the Hospital Ward with two limp bodies over his shoulders and a very pallid Neville Longbottom holding onto a good sized handfull of moleskin overcoat immediately behind.

"Merciful goodness." Pomfrey had beds made up in seconds and was casting almost as soon as Hagrid placed his burdens on the beds. Neville was bundled into the third bed with a large mug of hot chocolate. "What happened?"

"No idea." Hagrid accepted the mug of hot chocolate which appeared under his nose. "The screamin' started and the forest just went...crazy. 'Ermione collapsed and Ron walked into a tree. Made me wish I'd never left 'ome."

"Mr Longbottom?"

"I think he's fine...apart from the not lettin' go of me coat." Hagrid stared at the tubby boy for a moment before turning back to Pomfrey. "Leastways, I'm thinkin' they'll think more'n twice 'afore they go ramlin' after curfew."

"Oh yes, you had the detention didn't you." Pomfrey added a large dose of calming solution to Neville's hot chocolate. "Weren't there some Slytherins in this mess as well?"

"Young Malfoy and 'im." Hagrid grimaced. "'Ad to send 'em off separately 'cos they wouldn't stop trading hexes with Ron."

"But where are they?"

"No idea." Hagrid shrugged. "Perfessor Snape as't that when I got out of the forest...I think 'e's gone in a'ter them." Hagrid shrugged again and settled onto a chair to wait as Pomfrey busied herself with the two unconscious students. Neville Longbottom seemed to be coming out of wherever, or whatever, he'd ended up in, but he still didn't release Hagrid's coat.

It was over an hour later when the Infirmary doors crashed open once more. Pomfrey turned to shriek at the intruder, but fell silent when she realised that Snape was bearing a limp body over his shoulders. Both man and boy looked unbelieveable filthy and the Potion's Master was clearly on the verge of utter exhaustion, magically as well as physically.

"Antivenom for acromantula bite and energising potion and some skele-gro...and I'd like them yesterday." Snape dropped the body into a nearby bed and hit it with three quick charms. The first charm cleaned the body, the second charm changed the body into night clothes and the third charm tucked said body firmly into the bed with a heating charm. Pomfrey came over with the requested potions and was relieved to recognise the body as that of the Malfoy heir...and the boy was still breathing.

"Oh dear." Pomfrey was spelling the potions into the boy with a worried frown. She was fretting as she watched to see if the antivenom had been given in time, the nerve damage from acromantula bites could be horrific. The boy stirred, clearly indicating he was returning to the concious world and Snape turned away from the bed with a dark scowl, which only darkened when his eyes fixed on Hagrid.

"Congratulations, Hagrid, on such a well policed detention." Snape had taken half a step towards the man when another interruption occured.

"Ah, Severus, found Mr Malfoy...how relieving." Albus Dumbledore was looking slightly frazzled.

"Quite." Snape turned back to give Malfoy a second energising potion as well as hit the boy with an ennervate.

"Really Severus, what's the rush?" Pomfrey was perplexed, to say the least, Malfoy was going to be bouncing off the walls for days with this many energising potions on top of an ennervate.

"Has it slipped your attention that there is only one Slytherin here?" Snape shifted his attention off the Malfoy heir for only a moment so he could stare at the present staff members in disbelief. "Malfoy needs to be conscious if I'm to find out if the centaurs information is correct."

"Centaurs?" Dumbledore was concerned.

"Centaurs." Snape dropped heavily into a nearby seat and folded his hands to wait. "I'm hoping that their apparent clarity is a more than average batch of cryptic utterances."

"Why?" Dumbledore was confused in the extreme.

"Because if they meant exactly what they said than Potter is dead."

"But..." Pomfrey stuttered and then gulped.

"Dead?" McGonagal had turned an interesting shade of white.

"Precisely." Snape leant over hastily as Malfoy gave an unintelligble moan. "Draco?"

"Yeah...I know the drill." Malfoy's voice was barely a whisper as he weakly turned his head so Snape could get at his temple.

"Thank you...and then you may sleep." Snape carefully extracted the strand of memory into a suitable container.

"Just a moment." Dumbledore flourished his wand briefly before smiling as his pensieve materialised on a nearby table. "Severus?"

"Thank you, Headmaster." Snape had paused for a moment before he spoke and then swiftly crossed to drop the memory in, he followed it immediately and sneered when he noted that McGonagall, Hagrid and Pomfrey had joined him as well as the Headmaster. They watched in silence as two boys crept carefully down a familiar hallway, both clearly unhappy that the Ravenclaws had ever managed to drive them into this corridor in the first place. McGonagal's presence at the far end clearly horrified the two boys and they'd been on the verge of retreating when a door began to open and voices were heard. McGonagal had shouted in outrage about students in the corridor and the door which had opened slammed shut immediately. Potter and Malfoy had exchanged a sickened look before stepping out from under whatever cloak they'd been under. Malfoy had been watching McGonagal fixedly, but for some reason Potter had looked backwards over his shoulder at something which apparently only he could see. McGonagal had bundled the boys down the stairs and into Filch's hands without letting them say a word. Malfoy had actually attempted to protest twice, but it was notable that Potter had simply accepted the punishment alloted and silently headed for the front entrance. Filch had been particularly gleeful at the additional two students and bundled them swiftly down to Hagrid, who was crying over something or other which was never explained...the memory upset Hargrid again and Snape irritably kicked the man out of the memory, but he was back within seconds.

"I didn' see tha'." Hagrid sounded rather horrified when he saw the spell streak from Ron Weasley to Potter's unprotected back.

"No one ever did." Snape snorted softly as he noted the splash of the spell, very malicious that little hex. He watched in silent satisfaction the havoc Draco Malfoy had wreaked in retaliation for the assault on his friend. Potter had been totally non-responsive as he always was on detention. No wonder Hagrid had split the group, though he had a rather poor opinion of Hagrid's decision to leave the two Slytherin's in the company of Fang. Snape knew that cowardly dog, he wouldn't trust it to guard its own dinner, let alone a student.

Malfoy and Potter had barely spoken as they tracked through the thick forest with Fang. Malfoy had monologued briefly on the fact that Potter shouldn't just let people hex him, but the lack of response had soon driven Malfoy into resigned silence. Snape had almost smiled at the silent communication the two boys shared, obviously a by-product of the amount of pursuit they'd eluded in the previous few months.

"Unicorn blood?" Snape turned to glare at Hagrid after having finally gotten a good view of what the two boys were tracking. "You sent two unprotected first year students out against an unknown unicorn killer?"

"Erm." Hagrid had suddenly gone red.

"Bloody Gryffindors." Snape had turned back to scowl at his two students who'd picked up on a stream of blood and were following it at a very brisk walk. "What did you tell them they were searching for?"

"An 'urt unicorn." Hagrid sounded hurt.

"You didn't tell them that the suspected attacker shared traits with vampires and was likely to be in pursuit of the unicorn as well?"

"Well...no." Hagrid shuffled. "I mean, they was gonna be wif me an'..."

"Oh, shut up." Snape waved an impatient hand for he'd seen what had stopped the two boys. The Unicorn was beautiful...if rather dead, the thing draped across its neck sucking a skinful was not. "Tha..." Snape stopped for the thing had risen up and was approaching. Draco showed amazing presence of mind and started backing away. Potter had begun to back as well, but then caught his foot. The thing moved an appendage and green light flashed, striking Potter full in the face. Potter started to scream. It was the scream which had woken the castle. It was a scream which even in memory was as gut-wrenching as the original experience. It was a scream which never ended..and it was a scream which clearly evidenced that Potter was not going easily or quickly. Draco's memory then gave evidence of commonsense and proved just how fast he could move as he fled from the clearing. Green light flashed again and the memory went black.

"Mr Malfoy has survived the killing curse?" Pomfrey's expression was a mix of awe and horror as she looked first at the shaken staff which had emerged form the memory and then around at the unconscious student.

"No." Snape responded curtly as he pulled a brief memory strand from his own head. "This will explain the second flash." The strand dangled above the pensieve for a long moment before it fell. Snape blocked the hands which reached forward. "This memory is not mine and not human. The perspective is that of a non-agressive witness...and you will find it disturbing." Snape then stepped back and sneered as he noticed that all of them reached instantly forward once more. Snape would not enter that memory even if it was to save a life.

Pomfrey emerged first and she bee-lined straight to the nearest receptacle. McGonagal joined the mediwitch a mere seconds later. Dumbledore was an odd shade of white and gave a single unintelligible gargle before departing from the hospital wing with a tad more haste than dignity. Hagrid was the last out of the memory and he simply fell backwards in a dead faint which shook the hospital wing and laid still. Snape snarled unintelligibly for a moment before he levitated the giant into a bed he'd magically expanded to hold the mammoth...Pomphrey could deal with the man after she'd recovered from her own stupidity. Snape carefully retrieved the memory he'd placed in the pensieve, grimaced, then carefully fed it back into his own head. Snape had no idea what he was going to do with that memory, but one thing was certain, he was not going to leave it lying around where someone might stumble across it. Snape then checked Malfoy before casting some heavy wards and a muting charm so Hagrid's guaranteed wailing when he recovered did not disturb the boy and then departed for his dungeon and the book he'd had to lay aside when Narcissa had come to call earlier in the evening.

XXXXXX

"What has happened now?" Lucius Malfoy was worried as he slid into the Potions Master's office. It was four o'clock in the morning and not a normal hour for a professor or Head of House to request a meeting. Not that Snape had specified this hour, he had simply specified as soon as Malfoy came home and that had been twenty minutes earlier. If anything these oddities had caused Lucius Malfoy to start worrying and he wasn't intending to stop worrying yet.

"Draco's in the Infirmary." The words seemed to come from miles away.

"I know." Lucius dropped into a nearby seat and settled himself comfortable. "The mention of shock and abrasion caused me to decide to visit the infirmary before coming down here...it's rather full of sleeping students and Pomphrey was not happy to see me." Lucius shrugged disinterestedly. "He won't be fit for removal before tomorrow at the earliest." Lucius shifted slightly to frown at Snape. "What happened?"

"Draco didn't say?"

"Draco is asleep and not waking before tomorrow...and I can't get through your wards." Lucius folded his hands neatly while his mind carefully studied his old friend. Never had Lucius Malfoy seen his friend this overset by anything and it didn't really make any sense. The wards on his son's bed would have made a Master Warder proud, nothing was getting near that bed any time soon. "Where's Potter?" Lucius frowned when his query drew no response. "Potter is always more badly hurt than Draco...where is he?"

"At present he is safe." Snape slowly and painfully brought his attention back into the room from whatever distant point it had been visiting, before turning to look at Lucius. "Though I suspect that you will argue with my definition of safe."

"The only safe place for that boy is..." Lucius stopped as the available information clicked into place. "Dear Merlin are you joking?"

"Unfortunately not." Snape rubbed his face with a tired arm. "I am feeling very old tonight."

"Black is going to rampage when he hears this." Lucius somehow got the words past stiff lips, but his mind registered Snape's stiffening form. Black was not a rampage that the Wizarding World need fear...yet, but right now they were in immediate peril from two former Death-Eaters.

XXXXXX

"Enter." In a way Severus Snape was not surprised when he heard the faint tap on his office door, he knew his Slytherins well and they cared for their own.

"Sir." It was Edward Deralc who slipped into the room with a brief nod of greeting to Lucius Malfoy before he focussed on his Head of House.

"Problem?"

"Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter did not return at curfew last night." Deralc wet his lips and then stoically continued. "I have located Mr Malfoy in the Hospital Wing...but I've been unable to find Mr Potter and he has not been seen since last class yesterday."

"Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter earned themselves a detention yesterday evening." Snape held Deralc's eyes calmly. "The detention was in the Forbidden Forest and something went wrong."

"Harry?" Deralc stiffened as true fear shot through him.

"Did not survive when he chose to take a Killing Curse aimed at Mr Malfoy."

"But..." Deralc somehow couldn't say the words, but he realised just how much he had taken Potter's immunity to magic for granted.

"He'd already survived one curse, Edward, but apparently two within a minute was too much for him to take." Snape's tone was calm, for which Deralc was deeply thankful.

"If you'll excuse me, Sir." Deralc was already headed for the doorway. "The first years cannot hear of this at breakfast."

"Mr Deralc, the entire house is not being asked to hear this at breakfast. I will call a House Meeting in an hour and we will keep to ourselves for one day in respect of the sacrifice offered by one so young."

"Thankyou, sir." Deralc didn't quite manage to stop the tremor in the voice. "I still think the first years should be told in advance."

"That is one of the reasons why the House Meeting is in an hour. Mr Malfoy should wake in the next half-hour, I am giving you the authority to remove him from the Hospital Wing and bring him down in time for the House Meeting...you may take whomsoever you feel to be appropriate among the first years when you go retrieve him."

"Thankyou, sir." Deralc nodded briefly to both me before he retreated.

The House Elf which found Deralc on his way to the Common Room was one which was as any of its breed. It delivered its letter with an unintelligible wail before popping off in a cloud of tears and even more wailing. The letter was on school parchment and addressed in a rather vile scrawl to: Mr Edward Deralc, Slytherin Fifth Year Prefect. Deralc studied the letter for a long moment before finally deciding that he was not going to remember who wrote so badly and opening the letter was the only remaining option. The letter contained was brief, as ill-written as the address and dated a mere two days earlier.

_Deralc,_

_Parkinson has advised me that it would probably be advantageous at this point in time to write a letter to basically everyone. If you've received this letter it means that someone among the staff has announced my death within the hearing of a House Elf. I've left it for the House Elves to deliver for the simple reason that I have no idea how to delay delivery by owl post and I don't fancy trying to explain to Professor Snape that Parkinson thinks that my future may be in any marked degree of peril and will he hold a letter to be delivered after my death is announced._

_I leave my trunk for my fellow first-years._

_I leave my essays to you, to do with as you feel fit._

_I leave Hedwig to Blaise Zabini with thanks._

_To Malfoy I leave a letter which is to be found in the bottom of my trunk. I ask he be given it before he is taken home from school for a couple of days (Pansy says that he will be taken and that I must write specifically to him) and it is advised that he does not read it until he gets home and can consult his father...it concerns my thanks to the wizarding world since I feel confident that the letter I have addressed to the school will be 'lost'. Oh, and ask Malfoy when he speaks to the Sorting Hat to say thanks from me 'cause I couldn't have done it otherwise._

_Parkinson says I'm terribly cynical. Who knows._

_Thanks, Deralc, you were the best prefect I've ever met._

_HJP_

Deralc grimaced as he re-read the simple letter. Considering Potter's history his final accolade was hardly complimentary. Was Potter really dead?

"Parkinson!" Deralc stalked into the Commonroom and scanned it swiftly before focussing intently on the girl who sat with her friends.

"Deralc?" Parkinson's expression was unsettled as Deralc swiftly approached their table.

"You called Potter cynical?"

"Already?" Horrified comprehension flooded the pretty face.

"It would seem so." Deralc knelt gingerly beside the first years who sat hunched together and studied them gravely.

"It's Potter." Zabini looked almost sick with nerves and worry. "Parkinson was right last week wasn't she."

"I'm afraid so." Deralc bowed his head for a brief moment of respect. "A detention in the Forbidden Forest went wrong and Potter gave his life to save Malfoy. Professor Snape will be in to speak to the House at large in a bit under an hour, we have been tasked with retrieving Mr Malfoy."

"Malfoy...?" Greengrass seemed to have turned a pale shade of green.

"Hospital wing, but he should be fine." Deralc's expression stiffened. "We're going to get him here for the House Meeting and make sure he understands that Potter made a deliberate choice which he should honour."

"We'll look after him." Parkinson's puggish face looked uncommonly solemn and serious.

"Thankyou." Deralc rose to his feet and lead the six Slytherins back out of the Commonroom and swiftly towards the Hospital Wing. It was easy to speak of getting a student out of the Hospital Wing, actually accomplishing the mission was another matter entirely.

XXXXXX


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 15:

"My Godson is dead?" Sirius Black's voice was very quiet and possibly a little too contained for comfort. The man was quite presentable, but there was something to the man which had never been present in the boy. Albus Dumbledore abruptly decided that Sirius Black was going to be a very dangerous enemy when Voldemort decided to surface again. A pity the man had revealed his allegiances in the initial fall, for Black now had no cause to not join in the general mayhem of his fellow Death Eaters, and Dumbledore had a nasty feeling that Black would be more than willing to prove his right to standing at the Dark Lord's right hand when the time came.

"We..."

"No, old man, it was a simple question. Harry Potter is dead?"

"Well..."

"No lies."

"I don't know, we've lost the body which Professor Snape says was dead."

"Old man, I have already spoken to the Bat, I merely require from you a recounting of precisely what happened to my godson within the four walls of this school...and what was done by this school to ensure his comfort and safety."

"Why?" Dumbledore couldn't quite control his wince at the sarcasm oozing from Black's last comment.

"Because if I don't gain understanding of the situation from not only Severus, but also yourself I swear as a Black that not one stone of this castle will remain standing when I am done...and I doubt the castle is willing to be destroyed for something her occupants did." It was a decidedly nasty smile which grew across Black's face.

"That's..a-whoo-shoo...quite...a-choo...unne...*snuff*...cessary...ra-whoo-shoo." Dumbledore checked the top of his head since the last sneeze truly felt like it had blown the top of his head off. The top of his head felt gritty and rather nasty. Dumbledore looked up and immediately regretted the move as a load of grit ended up in his face. "Wha...a-choo." Dumbledore was off again and Black sighed, a trifle frustrated that the Castle had already started work on Dumbledore.

"Well, well, well...if it isn't the nasty mass murderer." The Sorting Hat bobbed in its shelf. "Looking rather Slytherin these days."

"I do what I must." Black stepped over and picked up the hat. "Haven't seen you in years, Musty."

"I much preferred Mr Potter's 'Big Brim' appelation." The hat made a pensive noise.

"No doubt, but I am not Mr Potter, Musty." Black considered the hat for a long moment before dropping into a nearby chair and placing the hat on his head. Depressingly enough the hat no longer came down well past his ears and he could still see, all too clearly, that Dumbledore was sneezing his head off.

"Ahh, so nice to meet old friends...particularly when they've successfully managed to grow up into quite decent people."

"I'm a decent person?" Black almost fell off his chair.

"You've ended a rather historic feud, with only a smallest amount of help from Lucius Malfoy. You have survived Azkaban without becoming the Dark Lord they all firmly believe you are. Your sense of responsibility for your dependents is fully developed and stable. You have also tempered your nature through judicious acceptance of who you are and just what good, and evil, you are capable of. Very few people can claim those traits in an entire lifetime, let alone within fifteen years of departing this place."

"Most people probably don't get half as much time for pensive introspection as I got." Black spoke dryly but then he focussed his mind. "Do tell, Musty, I'm sure you have a very good reason for putting Harry in Slytherin...and knowing you, you probably kept in contact after you committed the dirty deed."

"How about I make you a gift of the whole lot." The hat shuffled and Black felt icey fingers in his brain, a brief moment of pain and then the hat had retreated from its more invasive activities. Memories of things he had never seen drifted through Black's mind and it took him less than a minute to choose his next course of action.

"Thanks, Musty, I owe you and Hogwarts...just don't tell him that." Black replaced the hat on its shelf and hurried to the door.

"Just tell Mr Malfoy to come and speak to me, that will be all we require in thanks."

"I'll do my best, even if I have to imperius the boy." A fluttered hand and Black was gone, followed by a series of echoing crashes. Albus dumbledore continued to sneeze.

XXXXXX

Green Ink. Petunia Dursley was of the opinion that letters written in Green Ink were better burnt unopened. Letters written in Green Ink always brought very, very bad news. Unfortunately Green Ink letters also seemed to defy all efforts for destruction, and Petunia had tried all the ones she could think of and many she'd invented on the fly. Green Ink letters were fire resistant, water resistant, shredder-resistant, baby resistant, dog resistant, they came back if flushed down the toilet, they showed no harm even after someone spun their wheels directly on top of the letter. The list went on, for it had ten years to accrue data, and basically taught her that it was best simply to read this one and get it over with. Petunia Dursley HATED wizards, there were messy, familiar and obnoxious with little sense of class. They also were far too prone to writing in objectionable green ink.

_Dear Petunia,_

_I regret the necessity of addressing another such letter to you, but unfortunately fate does not seem to be favouring me of late. I am grieved to inform you that your nephew, Harry James Potter, of Slytherin House met with an unfortunate and unpredictable accident while serving detention with our Game Keeper. We regret to inform you that he perished as a result of the injuries he sustained and in honour of his valour we are preparing to bury him with his parents. Should you prefer to make alternative arrangements, please reply by owl..._

Petunia Dursley briefly scanned the remaining lines and the man's obnoxious signature. How she, a muggle, was meant to respond by owl the day before she received the letter was quite beyond her. Very Wizard-like to assume. Petunia pursed her lips and stared out the window. Harry was dead. Killed by the same stupid school which had ruined her sister. Petunia tapped her fingers pondering what her next course of action might be. It was one thing to ignore the boy and work him hard, Petunia had no issue with explaining all that to her sister...but to explain how she'd let that insane school kill the boy was another matter entirely. Petunia had no fear in facing up to the consequences of her actions...but this had nothing to do with her actions and Lily would unquestionably hold her responsible for the entire mess.

"Mum." Dudley came in from the front hall.

"Yes?" Petunia tucked away the letter in relief.

"There's a lady asking for you."

"Oh." Petunia considered things for a bit and then moved swiftly into the front hall before stopping and blinking. Lady Malfoy was not a sight anyone would expect to see in Little Whinging. "I beg your pardon, will you come in?"

"Thankyou." Narcissa Malfoy entered the house, taking her time to inspect it and learn of its owners. How to approach this situation. This boney, horse-faced gossip could be a powerful ally or a very nasty enemy and Narcissa fully intended to ensure the former situation ensued, not the latter. "Oh, you get those too do you?" Narcissa noted the edge of the parchment peeking from the woman's apron pocket. "Such an obnoxious man."

"How...?"

"My son was Harry's friend and I wished to deliver to you what the Wizarding World undoubtedly will not, and that is sincere condolences on your loss."

"Letter just says he's deceased and will be buried with his parents." Petunia shrugged as she sought stability within her own mind. Lady Narcissa Malfoy...THE Lady Narcissa Malfoy, was sitting in her kitchen, drinking tea and talking about the Wizarding World.

"You do not sound happy."

"I don't even know where my sister is buried, and they did it yesterday so I had no opportunity to go." Petunia pursed her mouth.

"Of course they made sure you couldn't go." Narcissa snorted most inelegantly. "They lost the body and there was no funeral at all."

"Wh...why?" Petunia felt something new, an emotion which made her uncomfortable.

"They're wizards, and as a race they are rather prejudiced as a whole. We are infinitely above you muggles. We erase memories rather than let you learn that several unsolved mass murders were infact caused by wizards. We invariably know best in all circumstances, so when a boy turns out to be otherwise than totally expected we endeavour to deny his existance. Harry James Potter, born of Gryffindor Parents, brought up in peaceful security far from his world-wide fame, is undoubtedly going to be a fun-loving Gryffindor with mediocre grades and a taste for Quidditch. We knew exactly what we were going to get...and as a result panicked when it didn't arrive. Harry James Potter, Slytherin souled and rather uncanny even by wizarding standards. I've no doubt that with a bit of time all would have settled down, we're still a trifle paranoid about things. Regrettably time was not available to spare and Harry has been sent on damned as a Slytherin."

"I want to know what happened to my nephew at that school."

"You don't?"

"I neither trust, nor like, magic and my husband is worse. Strange things happened around Harry when he was left to his own devices so we kept him busy. Possibly we had the wrong approach, but who could we ask for help or explanation, the few wizards I knew of vanished off the face of the earth when it all happened and Dumbledore assumed that because of Lily I would have no problem with the boy...I'm sorry, but Lily didn't float things while a baby. Lily didn't change people's hair when they frightened her. Lily couldn't change all the paint colourings in the house because she was bored. Lily didn't end up on school roofs as a result of being chased. Lily didn't change the size of clothing or make the lawn not grow for eight months. Lily's only real proof that she was magical was the fact that she could remain in the air too long after jumping off a swing when it suited her fancy. What am I meant to do when his muggle teacher acquired blue hair? I can't obliviate the woman, I'm a muggle as well. The best I can do is suggest that the blue hair was part of the prank which had gotten Harry into trouble in the first place. Do you know how hard it is to remain normal and respected when you are regularly lying so that your nephew isn't taken away for medical and psychological assessment? Harry doesn't like us. We don't like Harry. He's a dour and obdurate boy who wouldn't admit anything was wrong until the paint turned rainbow around him and the legs fell off all the chairs. It is very hard to like something which makes your life difficult, when it hasn't even the decency to behave normally. Babies cry, but Harry didn't. Babies use baby talk, they do not suddenly start using complete sentances. Babies get bored, Harry only got bored twice...and then he practically brought the roof down on our heads. We'd shut him in the cupboard for hours and he would not get bored. He talked to invisible things...and he never grew out of it. Harry never wanted us, and I know that babies want love and affection regardless of whether it's given to them or not. Harry never asked me for a hug, it was as if one of his invisible friends was always there...watching...telling Harry no, you will get nothing from them, do not even try. Can you tell me what causes my sister's fifteen month old baby to be a cynical baby?"

"I wish I had come sooner." Narcissa carefully patted the woman on the back. "What about your son?"

"My orders. If Dudley disapproved of Harry, no one would bother Harry for fear of Dudley. I made my own son into a spoilt bully out of fear because of what Harry could unintentionally do by simply going to school and making a few friends."

"Talk to your son. Discipline him if at all possible. Put your life back together, Petunia Evans Dursley."

"But what can I do? I want to do something. I've spent ten years bringing up boys and now..." Petunia spread her hands helplessly.

"Would you be willing to do liaison work with the Wizarding World?"

"What would that entail?"

"Muggleborns. We cannot communicate properly with the parents of muggleborns because none of us have ever feared oddness being 'discovered'."

"You want me to go to parents and tout the school which murdered my nephew after making his life hell?"

"No, we want you to go to the parents and explain the truth. Tell them of magic. Tell them of the statute of secrecy. Tell them of the prejudice in our world...let them know that there are other options than sending their children to Hogwarts."

"You mean tell them that when they have a hairy giant bashing in their door they can tell the man to scat because arrangements have already been made?"

"Precisely. Remus Lupin would have been an excellent choice for a private tutor, enabling Harry to continue his normal education while gaining control of his magical powers. There are many others out there who would be more than willing to work as private tutors."

"This could destroy your world." Petunia stared at the woman in confusion.

"Our world is already dying." Narcissa rose gracefully to her feet. "Our society is in no way connected to the non-magical world. The jobs are limitted and right now our last hope to save ourselves against a madman has just died. I refuse to sit back and watch my world destroy children who have committed no crime beyond being born as an abberration. Better the Muggleborns remain in the muggle world and learn how to integrate magic subtly into their own lives."

"I need time to think." Petunia took an unsteady breath. "But I think I will help for things would probably never have got so bad between my sister and myself but that I was cut-off completely from her life. She got angry because I wasn't interested in her world after her first year...she never realised that I ignored her world because she ignored mine. Why should I be interested in something I can never be part of, if she's not interested in where she was originally born."

"My private card." Narcissa held out the flimsy piece of paper. "Let me know your decision when you make it."

"Thankyou." Petunia watched the woman's departure before returning to her seat and sinking into it to stare blindly out the window. What was she going to do now?

XXXXXX

Minerva McGonagal had considered her recent couple of days to be perfect...though she would have preferred repentance on Potter's part, not death. It was so sad to think that such a promising match as James and Lily could lead to some so... there were no words.

"Ahh, Min-min, just the person I was hoping to find." Sirius Black swung into her office and dropped unceremoniously into one of the available chairs, after transfiguring it into a hideous neon striped effort which would have undoubtedly pleased the Headmaster. He looked to be the epitome of a Black, this man showed no signs of having once been a fun-loving Gryffindor...except for his use of that atrocious moniker James Potter had circulated in his fourth year.

"Mr Black?" Somehow, it didn't sound quite as controlled and firm as she had intended it too.

"The one and only, Min-min." The smile was not comforting. "Back from the dead and I find myself woefully uninformed in some matters, who else but my former Head of House to help me reassociate my existance with society? Such a fair woman, sure to have an unbiassed view of current proceedings." Black gave a tiny shake of his head. "So difficult to guarantee the truth from Slytherins, they have such a taste for lying. I mean honestly, my former Head of House took two hundred points from an eleven year old in the first week of classes for sins ranging from messy hair to not sitting on his seat properly? They expect me to believe that? As if. Gryffindors are honourable, noble and upright, courageously fighting the odds and believing the best of people until proven otherwise...or at least I recall that to have been your line when we spoke to you about Remus at the beginning of second year." Black looked pensive for a moment. "I really must see Remus, find out how that old Wolf is doing." Black gave another small shake of his head. "Oh, there was also the rumours I've been hearing of some new school sport. Please, Min-min, tell me honestly that your lions haven't got an awards board in their commonroom which keeps tally of who lands the most hexes on Potter. Flitwick, sadly enough, did confirm that his 'Claws had a board tallying all the spells they'd tried on Potter...he's reluctantly agreed with my suggestion that I should allow the 'Claws to taste their own medicine and cast their spells back at them." There was a moment of deathly silence in the Gryffindor Head Office. "Please, Min-min, I do not wish to spell anyone a hundred and twenty times in one minute...but I will if you don't clean up your house."

"What of Sprout?"

"I'm afraid that Hogwarts has taken the Hufflepuffs as her own to deal with...and personally I'd prefer to give Voldemort a one twenty spell free-for-all over my sorry carcase."

"You'd know how that feels." It was a bitter snap, but Minerva more than regretted it when she saw the change it wrought in the man who lounged opposite her.

"Thanks Min, you just lost the right to deal with the lions yourself." Black rose, his expression blank. "So pleasant chatting, we really must do it again." Black drifted off with a vague wave of his hand and it would not be until several hours later that McGonagal would discover the green and silver streaks which had been added to her hair and even Dumbledore could not remove.

XXXXXX


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 16:**

Severus Snape felt wary as he entered the Headmaster's Office, the other three Heads of House were already there and had the air of people who'd been in the Headmaster's presence for a while. Severus had been watching in silence for several days, waiting to see how things fell in the aftermath of Potter's death. The majority of the non-slytherin student body still celebrated what they considered to be a decisive victory against dark wizards in general. The staff, after the initial celebrations, had been a mixture of sadness over a young life lost, predominantly those that had a dream of saving Potter from 'evil', and relief that the 'problem' required no resolution since it didn't exist anymore. The few staff who did not fall in with the crowd were Poppy Pomphrey, who was almost as angry with the school as Snape was, Sinistra and curiously enough, Mr Filch. These three actually mourned for the loss of Potter himself. Unfortunately none of these three were a Head of House, he was among the ultimate enemy.

"Ahh, Severus, so kind of you to come." The Headmaster somehow managed to sound both reprimanding and kind, while leaving a vague flavour of guilt behind. It wasn't as if this wasn't the fastest he could have arrived without flooing, and nothing was going to persuade him to floo in a temperamental Castle.

"A particular problem, Headmaster?"

"We are concerned by the isolation and apathy of Slytherin House."

"Speaking for the collective staff, or have you decided you warrent the use of the royal we these days?" Snape almost smirked as McGonagal bristled up, Gryffindors could be so predictable when they made a habit of thinking of themselves as Gryffindors.

"I speak on behalf of the staff." Dumbledore gave a smile. "We were hoping you might have a suggestion for how to fix the situation."

"No."

"No, you have no suggestions, or no you won't make them?"

"I mean no, there is nothing which can be done." Snape's expression tightened.

"There must be something that can be done." McGonagal sounded amazingly catlike.

"Oh, certainly." Snape gave a brief sneer. "I hadn't realised that you were that fond of the necromantic arts, Minerva. Undo time, everyone's memory and prevent Potter from dying. Not much to ask of the all-powerful light and an instant fix to the problems of Slytherin. Give us a couple more weeks and perhaps a little respect and the Slytherins will be what you remember them to be."

"Respect, Severus?" Dumbledore seemed confused.

"Headmaster, as a House Slytherin is feeling a trifle disregarded." Snape was choosing his words very carefully indeed, for it would not be appropriate to wade through his fellow staff members with the rage he was feeling.

"Disregarded?" McGongal sounded rather disgusted.

"And how many Gryffindors have recently given their own lives to save another from death?"

"But..." McGongal abruptly closed her mouth.

"James Potter only just missed out on receiving a special services award for risking his life to save another...though the risk was relatively minimal in the circumstances. He would have received the award but for a minor technicality of having also been involved in causing the danger he sought to avert. Potter was awarded well over 100 points for his bravery in the face of danger. I rather think his son deserves as much for actually losing his life to save another through no fault of his own." Snape scowled darkly. "To date Harry Potter's death has been celebrated and my first years have been mercilessly taunted over the loss of their friend. I can't speak for any house but my own, but under the circumstances I think the Slytherins are being amazingly mature and restrained. I think apathy and a touch of isolation is better than all out war."

"But the..." Flitwick stopped uncertainly as he tried to remember if he'd ever been told what James Potter had actually done. Everyone knew that James Potter had made a heroic rescue during his sixth year, the man was upheld as the epitome of heroic courage, but now he thought about it no one had ever given a specific about the situation.

"Potter Snr went to rescue a student who'd been misdirected to Dumbledore's pet were-wolf. The rescue occured on the safe side of a re-inforced door, so the risk was mere potential at the time. The student who'd been misdirected was instructed by one of Potter's friends, who freely admitted that Potter was inspiration for the idea. Potter only took action because he didn't wish for the wolf to be executed, or himself and his friend to be expelled. His motives were far from disintered. Potter Jnr took a second Killing Curse when he undoubtedly knew he could not survive the second blast in such immediate proximity to the first one. Malfoy would have died if Potter hadn't taken that curse for him."

"You make it sound as if he could have survived a second curse." Sprout seemed undecided about whether she should sneer or not.

"Technically it would have been the third Killing Curse he would have survived. Really, has no one else realised that very few, if any, malicious hexes or curses ever actually had impact on Potter?"

"If no hexes ever took I wonder why you made all the fuss." McGonagal was back to her sniffy best.

"Probably because I have no intention of allowing any person within this school open slather on Slytherins. Just because Mr Potter was relatively immune to magic does not mean his fellow year mates were. In that regard, Potter never was a Slytherin, for he took a lot more care of his fellow classmates that the staffing body of this institute ever did."

"What was his safe limit?" Flitwick was looking curious, though Snape had his suspicions about the little man's motives.

"Cruciatus curse cast by Lucius Malfoy and monitored by Healer Penberthy from St Mungoes could be taken in one two minute curse in every five minute time period without physical impact. Ongoing cursing for more extended periods of time showed greatly reduced symptoms of the curses application and some very interesting homeostatic interactions. Healer Penberthy was fascinated and will be rather unhappy to hear that we managed to get his subject killed off by the Killing Curse."

"Poppy!" Dumbledore had his head in the fire before Snape had even half finished.

"Albus?" Poppy Pomphrey came tumbling out of the fireplace and dusted herself off.

"Have you been following recent research on..." Dumbledore stopped for Snape had given a muted snort and Poppy was now distracted.

"Severus?"

"The Headmaster is trying to prove the lies of Slytherin subtly...or to be more precise I think he's worried to discover that this school just caused the death of the greatest hope against the Unforgiveables in their entire history." Snape snorted again. "But feel free to tell him all about the recent advances regarding the electrotherapies and Potassium and Iron dietary therapies for encouraging nervous regeneration."

"Has there been any recent activity research-wise on the cruciatus?" Dumbledore seemed solemn.

"Nothing has been printed, but a contact of mine says that Dr Penberthy has recently received permission from eight families with people in the long-term spell damage ward to experiment with some strange combination of magical and muggle technology...apparently he's getting some promising results, particularly since he also began experimenting with Dr Aethinus who did that amazing work on ensuring a balanced nutrition for people who...are like the Longbottoms." Poppy had decided to avoid technical terms, for she'd seen the glaze of disinterest that Severus' precis of the subject had drawn, but there was no way to explain catatonia without going technical unless you named names, and Poppy never liked that.

"Severus says that young Potter was the source of those studies." McGonagal seemed a trifle peeved by the entire situation.

"Source?" Poppy looked to Snape for enlightenment.

"Lucius Malfoy cursed Potter while Penberthy observed something he called Body Chemistry. The results of a single day is what Penberthy is currently working off because it was only at the very end of the holiday that Lucius discovered that Potter could take the curse for quite extensive periods without permanent damage...and very little in the department of short-term symptoms."

"Why would a Healer sanction use of cruciatus on a minor?" Pomphrey seemed horrified.

"When it's pointed out that said minor will not be seriously discomoded by the cursing...and that it would add extensively to the study of the symptoms, a riddle which, if unravelled, may lead to a cure for those driven out of their minds by excessive exposure to the curse...you might also add sacrifice for the advance of medical care for the patients of the cruciatus to reasons that Potter's death should not simply occasion a grand party in the Great Hall."

"If Potter could take multiple killing curses...what was the limit?" Flitwick was persistant, Snape would give the midget points for that.

"It was hypothesized that Potter could probably take one Killing Curse every ten minutes without dying. However Penberthy's initial hypothesis for the Cruciatus had the limit at fifteen minutes, so I would be assuming that Potter could have probably taken a second as long as five minutes had past." Snape would have smirked at the gob-smacked expressions of his fellow Staff members had he not been so close to cursing the lot of them for having been utter morons to begin with. This past Christmas would probably never even fade to being a distant memory. This Christmas was what gave Snape the hope that should the Dark Lord ever be safely restored to power, he would equally be totally destroyed. Himself, Lucius and Black were a force to be reckoned with when they co-operated and they had nothing on the now three boys, two of whom could consult millenia of magical memories. It was only to be hoped that Potter's death did not send the two Black boys spiralling back into insanity.

XXXXXX

Draco Malfoy had been keeping to himself for over a week now. Over a week since his father had calmly removed him from Hogwarts the moment he returned permanently to the conscious world. Over a week since he'd seen any of his fellow Slytherins, though they's been flooing in regular messages from the school. Over a week since Harry Potter had died to save his life, and Malfoy was of the grim opinion that the whole mess had been a bad exchange. Bloody knuckles and his pristine bedroom attested to the frustration he was struggling with. Frustration was preferable, however, to the mess which was his mind otherwise. His father spoke to him briefly a couple of times a day, but they both knew that Draco's problems needed help from somewhere else, and neither of them could figure it out yet.

"Draco?" It was his father again.

"Father?" Draco opened the door and looked up to his father.

"Severus is here."

"Very well father." Draco stepped back into his bedroom, electing to settle in the chair next to the window as he waited for the Potions Master to enter his room.

"You seem to be holding up acceptably well." Severus Snape looked around the room he had entered. The signs were small, but present, of the turmoil which Lucius and Black had both mentioned. Snape's mouth thinned as he considered the situation.

"I am a Malfoy." Draco had pulled his feet up.

"You are also a Slytherin and Draco...powerful combination that."

"Father said you did something which really upset the staff."

"Only some of the staff...and I did warn them not to do it."

"Could you tell me?"

"Unicorns are magical creatures of beauty and purity." Snape settled himself carefully in the other chair as he considered his thoughts and carefully avoided thinking the alien memory which still resided in his skull. "Evil to kill them in violence. Evil to take any part of them by force." Snape blinked his eyes slowly. "The Wraith that you met both killed by violence and took by force from the innocent." Snape blinked again. "Though the Unicorn died before you arrived, it did not move on until after I found you both." There was a long moment of silence. "I showed them the Unicorn's memory...and unicorn's are acutely empathetic." The silence that time was utter and deafening. "Potter was not willing to leave this plane of existance and he fought tooth and nail with everything he possessed to remain." Silence fell again. "Draco, I give you my word that Harry was at perfect peace with the world when he died, I checked the body and there was not a single partical of malice left anywhere within the anatomy."

"Then why wasn't there a body to bury?"

"That would be the fault of Fai-lo." Severus jerked his head to the right. Draco followed the move and blinked to see a small dog-like animal which sat in the shadow under Severus' chair.

"Fai-lo?"

"That is what I understood his name to be." Severus rubbed his chin for a moment before getting the animal to come out. Draco recognised it after a moment as having been on Snape's heels the single half day he'd spent at Hogwarts before Madame Pomphrey had released him to come home. It was an odd little animal which was almost totally black in colour, the exceptions were the tail and white streaking over the head. The animal was reasonably evenly proportioned which held promise for it to become a mid-sized dog. Nubbin horn buds rested between floppy, spaniel-like ears. Soft fur on the face gradually graded into coarse fur by the tail, which was tufted black and white. Green eyes supplied the only genuine colour to the animal, and they were very familiar green eyes.

"But..." Draco stopped and considered things carefully. "It's Fai-lo, not Harry. Perfect peace at moment of death." Draco frowned slightly as he sought to capture the conclusion which was dancing just out of reach. "Is it possible to get memories from a ghost?"

"No." Snape's mouth twitched momentarily. "A memory can only come from a tangible existance."

"I see." Draco's attention was back on Fai-Lo, who seemed to appreciate having his head scratched around the nubbin horns. "Such an interesting creature."

"You won't find it recorded in any book." Snape's expression was almost a grin.

"Can he switch?"

"That's the problem." Snape grimaced. "He can change, but when changed he is neither visible, nor tangible."

"Harry could do that." Draco jerked upright before crouching down in front of Fai-lo. "Focus on the feel of the floor when you change."

"Why the floor?" Snape asked his question as Fai-lo retreated to a corner and wore a slightly constipated expression.

"That's what Harry used when he did that. Apparently you can't feel the floor in that condition, so focuss..." Draco stopped as his eyes widened and Snape jerked around to see Fai-lo flickering unstably as an almost visible human. "Sweet." The word was whispered as the flickers slowly evened into a pattern before eadging officially into solidity.

"Strange." Fai-lo's voice sounded soft and definitely was not the voice of Harry Potter. "This will take some getting used to."

"I advise changing back and forth a couple of times." Snape was frowning slightly.

"Yes, sir." Moments later the small dog-like creature was back, but returning to human was still unstable and difficult. Three more switches later and the process was beginning to smooth out.

"I know it was from here." Spike Black's sharp tone came from outside of the room and was deeply frustrated.

"It's Draco's room."

"You think?" It was almost a snarl. "Why do you think I haven't simply gone barging in?"

"I'll find out what is happening." Snape swept across the room and opened the door just enough that he could get his head out. "Problem?"

"Yes." Spike Black was scowling almost as intimidatingly as Snape. "Harry Potter's life signal just resurfaced...except for the slight problem that he joined the collective soul. Harry's a little concerned that his body is apparently walking around and alive without his permission."

"Oh." Snape looked at Lucius and Sirius, both of whom looked an interesting mix of confused and frazzled. "Do come in, I'll permit Fai-lo to explain it all himself."

"Thankyou." Spike Black visibly relaxed.

"Where's...Pluto?"

"Here." Spike jerked a thumb at himself. "I'm not Hades, I'm actually Spike."

"Why not always stay as Spike?"

"Only found out recently about this trick...and we can do a lot more as two people than one."

"How did you find out?" Snape let the small group into Draco's room and resumed his own seat as the others found or conjured seats for themselves.

"Harry died and joined the collective." Spike gave a grin before separating back into his normal form of two bodies. The noise was rather odd and effected the stomachs of all who heard it, though no one actually lost a meal.

"Collectives are not just past souls?"

"No." Hades shook his head, though his eyes were fixed on Fai-lo who had taken a seat in human form. "Someone explain."

"This is Fai-lo." Snape waved his hand in the appropriate direction. "He was the unicorn which was killed. A soul without a body and a body without a soul, the result can be guessed."

"Hence the change in hair colour." Pluto shuffled over to touch the icey blond hair which covered the other's head. "Looks like Malfoy hair."

"That sounded vaguely insulting." Draco's eyes narrowed. "I won't have an ex-unicorn for a brother."

"Reciprocated. I won't have you for a brother." Fai-lo's expression was narrowed and distinctly expressing an emotion which seemed very alien to the mental knowledge of unicorns. It was simply not what one expected of a unicorn, ex or genuine.

"Ex can join us." Hades leant back with a small frown and closed his eyes. "Mother was Mathilda Hawkins and his conception occured during the Halloween Revel, 1979. He was born Claude Hawkins on August 1st 1980. Listed as deceased in the 1983 fires which killed his mother, Claude Hawkins was lost to the world. Ex was taken in by Free Demon, a muggle hippie who lived on the edge of town and managed to get him out of the fire before it killed him. Free Demon was a little odd, he'd been through the foster system and decided things would be better if he claimed the boy. Free Demon was a low-level wizard never recognised by the magical world who recognised in Ex what had given him so much trouble while growing up. Free Demon officially moved because his house was destroyed in the fires, but he re-settled with an unexplained nephew in Fairfields community. The nephew's name was Ash Fai-lo. Free Demon died last year and the Community continued to care for Ash Fai-lo until Sirius Black tracked him down in recent weeks. The Community were grateful that another relative has come for they were struggling. Fai-lo Demon Black will be registered for Hogwarts now the Head of House has recognised his connection to the family."

"Freaky." The words came simultaneously from Fai-lo and Sirius Black.

"What?" Draco was looking worried.

"We've got the memories." Sirius shook his head gently and blinked twice. "I mean, I have the memories and I presume Fai-lo does as well. I picked up Fai-lo yesterday, having begun the process during the Christmas break to secure him. I remember searching the records at home, consulting my brother's portrait and using tracking spells to find the boy. I can tell you all about the community and my first meeting with Ash Fai-lo. I can remember the discussion we had just this morning when he kept Fai-lo, included Demon for the only parent he remembered and his wish to be told his own history."

"Same for me, except a lot more memories." Fai-lo shook his head gently. "I've got years of living in that community and how food was getting scarce and hard to come by." Fai-lo tilted his head slightly and Draco sniggered for he could almost see the new memories sifting around into the right places. "Life has been hard since Demon died, my oddities became free game for the other kids and I was actually beginning to think that life might be better outside of the communities when Daiyati came with Hades and Pluto." Fai-lo tilted his head again. "It's beautifully done, Harry's memories are integrated with a dream and Spike's take on this future. It's incredibly well done and I doubt even Professor Snape would be able to tell this is an arranged memory."

"The only question now is what we're going to do." Lucius seemed unhappy.

"Draco should be alright for the rest of the school year." Hades tilted his head. "Hogwarts promised physical safety should Draco return, and I'm willing to bet between Mr Malfoy and Professor Snape no one will even dare come near Draco."

XXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore studied a length of blank wall rather pensively. Draco Malfoy had returned to Hogwarts, spent three hours under the Sorting Hat before making his silent way back to Slytherin House. It was apparent now that Harry Potter had not been the only one responsible for the cohesion between the Slytherin first years, for the first years had been showing definite signs of drifting apart in the past three weeks, but within ten minutes of Draco's return to the Commonroom, the first years had been studying as a single unit at their usual table in the Slytherin Common Room. Not that he was actually meant to be thinking about the Slytherins right now, he should be significantly more worried about the Castle's current antics. Hogwarts had not limitted herself to making the Headmaster sneeze. It was hard to believe that less than a minute ago the wall he stared at had been occupied by a nice, large floo fireplace which he'd been using. Was it the thirteenth botched assassination attempt by the Castle, or was it a very deliberate coincidence that the fireplace had moved just as he ended his conversation, thus costing him a little beard, but not his head. All things considered that would have to result in a rather interesting ghost since headless ghosts could only carry their heads if the lost item was in very close proximity...and Albus Dumbledore's head would have ended up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, London, if he'd had it chopped off in that conversation. Not that it was just the fireplaces which misbehaved. One student had spent almost three days being put back together after Hogwarts moved a doorway the student was halfway through. Staircases were moving more roughly these days and a rather nasty mold seemed to have taken up residence in the Gryffindor Tower...though even that had nothing on the swamp which infested the Hufflepuff Commonroom. Dumbledore had visited the commonroom and watched a crossing, an undertaking which required four people and a lot of stunners, since the crocodiles were apparently vulnerable to no other spell...and they weren't particularly vulnerable to that.

"Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"Professor McGonagal." Dumbledore rather gingerly put his head into the fireplace which had arrived behind him when Minerva called.

"You're needed."

"Why?"

"Hogwarts has a new ghost."

"And?"

"It's Potter, Headmaster and he is putting Peeves to shame with the sheer havoc he wreaks."

"The Bloody Baron?"

"Is the Slytherin House ghost, he just sneers and welcomes us to reap what we have sown."

"Then I'm afraid I have no suggestions. If Mr Potter is being supported by the Bloody Baron than I would simply say your prayers and hope that the Bloody Baron continues to exercise his restraining influence upon Peeves."

"Headmaster I will thankyou to not even consider that thought." McGonagal retreated from the floo leaving Dumbledore to pensively make his way down towards the dungeons. It was normally a ten minute trip, but these days in a temperamental castle it could take up to an hour.

"Headmaster Dumbledore?" Professor Severus Snape looked up from the cauldrons he and a small group of first year Slytherins were bent over.

"A moment of your time if not too inconvenient." Dumbledore glanced disinterestedly at the clustered students, they were still silent and subdued even with the return of Malfoy.

"Fine." Snape handed his ladel to Zabini. "Another fifteen cycles before you add the fairy wings and you will feel it if you forget." Snape came to the door, wiping his hands carefully on a handkerchief. "Headmaster?"

"Minerva has complained that the Bloody Baron is refusing to exercise his authority over the school ghosts."

"I've heard no complaints of Peeves recently." Snape's brow rose slowly.

"I believe the apparition in question is a genuine ghost, if rather new."

"I can speak to the bloody Baron, but I highly doubt a ghost of roughly a thousand year's standing is going to even consider listening to me."

"Sir." It was Theodore Nott who respectfully interrupted them.

"Fifteen cycles cannot yet have finished, Nott." Snape fixed an icey eye on the boy.

"No, sir." Nott stiffened under the stare but refused to back down.

"What then?"

"I was speaking to the Bloody Baron duing breakfast, sir."

"And?"

"This new ghost isn't a Castle Ghost, he just has access to the castle and therefore doesn't come under the Bloody Baron's jurisdiction...not that the Baron is inclined to stop the ghost even if he was under his jurisdiction."

"Confusing, Nott, but we can decypher your intention...go away."

"Yes, sir." Nott retreated with relief, leaving Snape to look at the Headmaster.

"What ghost can gain access to the castle without being a Castle Ghost?"

"I don..."

"Headmaster, who is the ghost?" Snape's expression tightened with sudden suspicion.

"Potter." The Headmaster slumped in defeat recognising that Snape would definitely remain inactive now.

"Who's he terrorising?"

"Gryffindor."

"I wouldn't help even if I could." Snape whirled around and returned to his cluster of students and their cauldrons.

Headmaster Dumbledore returned to his office at a very slow pace. Something had gone wrong. Somehow, the world seemed to have taken a hard right when it should have continued straight ahead and now all Dumbledore could do was hope that another prophecy came to countermand the original, for otherwise all hope was lost.

XXXXXX

**FIN!**

A/N: There are several sequels of this for the full story, this was just Lost Hope. At this point Black Dawn will begin posting in December 2009...unless I finish it before my mid-year break, in which case it may come in June/July. Don't be too hopeful though. I can cap this with an epilogue, or you can simply wait. I learnt with Lost Hope to finish these stories before posting, unlike in the past when I've posted as I've written (usually the base plot is the fixed element, not the timeline). Whatever happens, I thank those of you who have read this story. I give a double thanks per review for those of you who read and reviewed. I hope you enjoyed reading half as much as I enjoyed writing. - Adari


	19. Chapter 19

**Epilogue:**

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his comfortable chair behind his headmasterly desk and looking every inch the eccentric headmaster he was. To one side sat his dish of lemondrops. An organiser filled with quills, inkpots, empty scrolls of parchment and unanswered mail sat next to the lemondrops, it was his tactful reminder of all the work he wasn't doing if he tried to enjoy his lemondrops for too long. Today he was not thinking about either. He wasn't thinking about the piled books which should be returned to their various shelves and owners respectively. He wasn't even thinking of lists of things he might need to do, for the remembrall he'd bought as a boy had long since turned permanently red, he didn't even need to hold it for it to remind him that he'd forgotten something. Today Albus Dumbledore was bewildered. Sixteen years ago a prophecy had been made which had never become invalid, though today it was registering as fulfilled and a Dark Lord lay dead under Auror Guard as evidence of the prophecy's fulfillment. His issue was the fact that the second party identified in the prophecy had died three and a half years ago and been haunting the school ever since. Ghosts can't kill.

"That's what you think, Headmaster." The Sorting Hat was rocking gently on its shelf and wearing a very satisfied smirk.

"You're saying that ghosts can kill?"

"Oh no, intangible manifestations cannot be responsible for death for they are invisible to those whom the sight of them might be deemed detrimental." The Sorting Hat was clearly enjoying itself.

"Then how does the Prophecy work?"

"Malfoy figured it out at the end of his second year."

"Hat!" Dumbledore was beginning to feel stressed.

"Ghosts cannot kill, and yet apparently a ghost was responsible for the death of a Dark Lord. What does that tell you?"

"That our theories on ghosts are in error and they can kill."

"No, Headmaster. Ghosts cannot kill, it is a fundamental law of magic." The Hat snorted.

"Then it's impossible."

"Or Young Potter never became a Ghost."

"Hat!"

"Headmaster, Hogwarts is united for the first time in a thousand years. Has it ever occured to you that the Power young Potter supposedly wielded was the power to unify what was broken? One Dark Lord cannot defeat a unified Hogwarts."

"That might explain the power, but it does not explain the prophecy. The Wards of Hogwarts were what destroyed the Dark Lord, that is hardly by the hand of Potter."

"Do you remember discovering the screams embedded in the Wards?"

"Yes." Dumbledore grimaced, he remembered those hideous screams all too well and he wasn't too fond of where the Hat was headed with this idea.

"Why did you never check to find out if there was more than just screams incorporated into Hogwarts?"

"Because I didn't want to know." Dumbledore scowled at the Hat. "Is he only in the Wards?"

"No, Headmaster." A new voice, a familiar voice and a nasty feeling.

"Harry?" Dumbledore turned to face the small ghost who'd wreaked havoc in his school and managed to never be seen by the Headmaster in three and a half years. Such a little ghost, he didn't really seem old enough to have been a first year. Guilt boiled uneasily in his chest as he studied the small boy.

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Why didn't you leave? Desert us to our just fate." He had to know for he couldn't figure out why the boy had remained to fight even after death.

"Is it just fate to damn future generations to the rule of a Dark Lord? I consider it just fate to ensure that you dealt with the mess you made and protected the future generations from your actions." Harry gave a small smile. "Besides I cannot leave because I never died."

"Harry?"

"I'm Hogwarts, Headmaster, and you can have no idea how much fun that is."

"I can imagine." Dumbledore fingered his beard, remembering just how much of it he'd lost to floos in recent years. "You never died?"

"I exhausted my magic to neutralise the curse and then was offered aid by Hogwarts...and I discovered that if I remained in Hogwarts I had an advantage that Voldemort could never even begin to challenge...I also gave Hogwarts a voice and guaranteed that anyone who resided a minimum of twenty-four hours within the wards was immune to the Unforgiveables."

"It is because you chose to stay as Hogwarts that Minerva survived?"

"Yes, Headmaster...and I'll thank you not to tell her. We enjoy our war and it makes her a better teacher than she would be otherwise...I will not be party to the unnecessary destruction of a life and she is much improved since she has realised that I am very like my parents for all my being a Slytherin."

"What advantage did being Hogwarts give you over Tom?" Dumbledore shifted the conversational focus to the side, that topic was just too potentially dangerous for misunderstanding.

"Dear me, don't you consider it an advantage to have a thousand years of memories and learning?" The tone was so mild, the expression so innocent that Dumbledore couldn't help it, he snickered. "Admittedly I did enjoy the 400 tonnes of weight advantage I had...and stonework, mortal flesh has nothing on well carved stonework."

"Does Sirius know?"

"Of course he does." Harry snorted. "Why do you think he attended every board meeting and made a sufficient fuss about every half-witted issue that they invariably ended up here in your office?"

"Then you are probably in some way resoponsible for the fact that they made their peace last year?"

"Bloody stubborn wolf. Have you any idea how hard it is to change a were-wolve's mind? I had to drop Scabbers on his head before he even began to consider that something had to be odd. I've still to figure out who he thought was responsible for his supply of Wolfsbane...and what logic he used to explain why Black would supply him with Wolfsbane though never a trace of guilt for having supposedly sold my parents to the Dark Lord...I believe they're currently roasting the rat over a low heat in the Potions Dungeon."

"I don't want to know." Dumbledore shook his head gently. "What now, Harry?"

"Oh, life continues as it has. Green Harry haunts the school, bickers with McGonagal, makes potions with Snape and guards the Forbidden Forest. Hogwarts will occasionally talk, will send Green Harry to deal with school issues she considers to be her jurisdiction...why should things change?"

"Well..." Dumbledore stopped and considered things. Life was good at Hogwarts these days, the house rivalries flourished healthily without the edge of prejudice they'd held before. Why should it change?

"Where is he!" It was McGonagal's voice which came up the stairwell. "Headmaster that..."

"Oops." Harry drifted hastily through the nearest wall just in time to not be seen by McGonagal as she stormed into the Headmaster's Office.

"I don't care if Green Harry is not within the Bloody Baron's jurisdiction, you need to find a way to control that ghost, Albus, he's a menace!"

"What has he done now, Minerva?"

"Nothing...except for making it impossible for me to intercept the Weasley Twins with the stash of firewhiskey which they're intending to celebrate the Dark Lord's downfall with." McGonagal stopped for a breath. "I have seven years worth of drunken Gryffindors, Headmaster!"

"Dear, dear." Dumbledore almost lost his struggle to not giggle, this was why he was not going to say anything. "I'll speak to Severus about sobering potions and headache elixirs."

"That's not..." McGonagal abruptly flung her hands up in despair. "I don't know why I even bother. You can explain the mess to the House Elves."

"I'm sure the elves already know and are prepared for the situation." Dumbledore smiled soothingly, offered McGonagal a lemondrop and watched as her mouth twitched. Why was McGonagal suddenly on the verge of laughter? No reason at all really, but Hogwarts was snickering.

XXXXXX


End file.
